Anya Barton Book Three: Secrets of the Innocent
by crossMIRAGE19
Summary: Third Year is completely different from what Anya Barton thought. Instead of the "Fantastic Four" looking for trouble, trouble himself is looking for them as Sirius Black, mass-murderer and recent escapee of the Azkaban prison. What does he want with Harry? At least this year's Professor Lupin seems to be the only good thing.
1. Money for the poor girl

**Hello readers. I don't leave messages at all, but I want to thank from the bottom of my heart all those whom had read, reviewed, favorited and followed my stories and it encourages me to keep writing. There are going to be some mentions of the first two books of Anya Barton and if you prefer to not be confused, I recomend to read them first. Well, that sounded very british. Enjoy! And thanks again!**

* * *

"It's your turn."

"No, is_ not_!"

"Then who's?"

"Just _shut up_!"

"But really, who's going there?"

I sighed. I was trying to do my homework from History of Magic but my other roommates on _St. Louise's_ didn't shut up.

I'm Anya Barton, but my friends like to call me Annie or Anne. I have long wavy and used to have dark (now light) brown hair and greenish hazel eyes. I'm a little more taller than last year.

I am a witch and I go to a school dedicated to young wizards. My best friend Hermione Granger and I met these adventurous boys named Harry Potter and Ron Weasley and, since then, our lives complicated a lot. Mainly mine.

First year we had to save a stone from the darkest wizard of all times, Voldemort. And in our second, one of his old things (a diary) controlled me and Ginny Weasley to attack Muggleborns, Hermione being a victim too, causing me to have a short depression.

But again, Harry managed to save our, how do Americans say…asses.

I am currently reading a leather book to do my essay, 'Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless — discuss.' But it was completely pointless. With all that racket is a miracle Mrs. Darcy hadn't awoken yet.

Wait! I forgot. Mrs. Darcy is currently on bed with a high flu that nearly matches a troll's boogies. That's the why of all the noise. All the girls on this place had to take turns to "take care" of her. I know they itch to put me as her permanent caretaker, but I luckily had the help of Natasha.

She currently was in another trip, but I knew now that she had been visiting an old friend of hers that she longed to see. I think it was her high school crush or something because when she made a mention of him Natasha gained this disheartened gaze that nearly broke my heart.

TOCK! TOCK!

Someone banged loudly on my door.

TOCK! TOCK!

"Barton! Barton!"

I didn't listen to her. Carol had been annoying since I returned. Even if I erased her memory of my escape, I think somehow her subconscious still remembered what I did.

"Barton, listen" she said exasperated. "We want your help with Mrs. Darcy"

I ignored her.

"Barton," that wasn't Carol, it was Marie, one of the sweetest girls around here. Well, only with the others because she ignored me. "I know that you had been saving money."

Now _that_ perked my interest. Yes, it was true I was trying to earn money from the little jobs I had been doing for the neighbors. I want to buy Harry a decent present, his birthday being next month.

"You are more experienced on this too. We all called a thrust and we're going to pay you if you help us."

I wonder myself why this girl is friends with Carol?

Standing up after putting away my homework, I opened the door and found baby blue eyes staring at me expectantly.

"What is the catch?"

Marie shook her brunette hair. "There's no catch. We only want help."

I stared at her and the other three girls. Carol, as always glared at the ceiling. Jenna, a tall girl with reddish hair, just stood there. And lastly was Miki, a half Korean-Japanese girl with short hair and big brown eyes. At least she looked more kindly that the other two.

"Okay then." I glanced sharply at Darcy's corridor. "I hope that you have a respectful amount because, even the dog's neighbor can tell that she's going to be a nightmare."

And that's saying it _respectfully_.


	2. Forgotten Birthday

"Hello mum, hi dad. Today is my thirteenth birthday, can you believe it? I never thought that I would last so far."

Yes, today was my birthday.

It was ten o'clock near midnight, and after a distressful day with Darcy, I decided to go outside the gardens.

Blimey, that woman knew a lot of words that shouldn't be used in public.

It's a week after the deal I made with Marie. They pay me each day beforehand and I do the hard work. Nobody around here bothered me anymore. We kind of made a truce that day.

Hey, I don't complain. Thanks to that, now I can buy Harry a present.

But…thinking more about presents, I forgot that today was my birthday. I never celebrated it because it made me sad to know my parents abandoned me. Now that I know they died…

"What are you doing?"

I looked up and saw the place cleaning lady and my only friend her too, Natasha Rosenberg.

"Nothing," I sighed. "Why did you return so quickly?"

She gained a secretive smile. "A little bird told me that today's someone's birthday." I raised an eyebrow.

"A little bird?" Natasha nodded.

"Yep," she now looked mockingly puzzled. "But what bird?" and to my surprise, I heard hooting from her black purse.

"What is that?" she stared at me.

"What?" I pointed at her purse. The hooting became more soundly.

"That."

She frowned and reached for her purse. And when she opened it, I just saw the cutest little owl I had ever seen. It was grey and had specks of brown and his eyes were amazing silver that astonished me.

"Oh," Natasha smiled cheerfully at the bird. "This fellow was the one."

Huh?

And she then offered the bird to me.

"Happy birthday, Ann."

My eyes widened. "Wait, what? I mean, how?"

Natasha looked incredulously at me. "Can't you just accept the bird?"

The owl ruffled his feathers and gave a hoot of what I suspect is laughter. I reluctantly nodded and accepted the owl. It was so tiny that it fitted perfectly on my fist.

"Does it have a name?"

"Nope," Natasha shook her red hair.

"Thinking of it, how did you get this owl?"

Again, Natasha only gave me a secretive smile.


	3. Surprise!

_Dear Annie,_

_I'm currently on a vacation on France with my family. The places around here are beautiful! I'll try to take as much pictures as I can for you, I know you love to draw them. Hey, did you hear that Mr. Weasley won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw? Ron and his family went to Egypt. I am so jealous; I bet he's learning loads there. I decided I'm going to rewrite the essay Professor Binns gave us._

_By the way, Ron may warn you of not calling Harry on telephone. Ron called and he shouted at Harry's uncle believing he couldn't be heard. Honestly, only him. Do you know what are you going to give Harry? I bought him a Broomstick Servicing Kit. I hope is not too much, but I reckon Harry needs to be spoiled a little on his life._

_Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? Will Natasha convince Mrs. Darcy to let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!_

_Love from France,_

_Hermione._

I smiled at Hermione's letter. Only she would do something like that.

I looked at my desk. Errol – Ron's family owl – was panting in the cage of Caleb, my new owl. The poor dear was nearly knocked out.

_Dear Anne,_

_Guess what? I went to Egypt! Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. I still don't believe it myself._

_I called Harry with the telephone and I think I shouldn't mentioned I was from Hogwarts, but Dad reckons I shouldn't have shouted._

_Anyway, here in Egypt is amazing. You wouldn't believe how much curses the old Egyptian wizards put in only _one _chamber._

_We'll be back about a week before term starts and we'll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. If you met us here, then see you there. _

_Try and come to London!_

_Ron._

_P.S. Percy's Head Boy. And Ginny says Happy birthday._

Most probably is that Percy's wearing that badge. I wonder if Fred and George are going to try something?

But Ginny sent me a lot of Wizard postal cards and they are really beautiful.

It set me off a little the present Hermione bought Harry. I mean, not even Ron has the luxury to buy something like that.

I, on the other hand, bought him a charm bracelet with the Hogwarts crest and three charms, representing his friends. A chessmen (for Ron), a book (for Hermione), and a wand (for me).

_Dear Harry,_

_I wish you a Happy Birthday, but seeing as you are with your Aunt and Uncle, and don't forget your cousin, I wish you more luck._

_Life in St. Louise's is not as bad as the beginning. Don't worry, Darcy is sick and so she hadn't hit me in the hands like before. The girls around here don't treat me bad anymore, we kind of made a deal. Don't ask because neither I understand._

_Sorry that the present I gave you is so small and kind of girly. It's a lucky charm I bought in a trip. As you see each figure represents us, your friends. I suppose you can figure who is who._

_It's sad to me that I can't go to a vacation like Ron or Hermione, but what can I do. Ron and Hermione are going to meet in Diagon Alley next week, I'll see if I can meet them too. I you go, then see you soon. If not, then see you at the station._

_Hope to see you, _

_your friend Annie._

_P.S. Ron mentioned that Percy's Head Boy. God help us all._

I pocketed the letter with a Happy Birthday card and his gift on a little box.

"Hey, Cal," I called my owl. He flew in circles and landed in front of me, hooting expectantly. "Ready to send your first letter?" the owl nodded quickly to my surprise. But when I showed him the pack, Caleb almost fainted.

* * *

"Anya."

That wasn't good. Natasha never used my correct name. She only called me Anya if A) she was mad, or B) she was going to say something very importantly serious.

"What is it?" I glanced nervously at her. To my astonishment, she was using a dark blue lawyer suit. She never looked so _formal_.

"You remember I have been doing these _visits_."

_Yes, I still want to know who the fortunate man is._

I nodded.

"I had talked to some people and moving papers and," she breathed heavily. "Well, the thing is – no – the question is, would you like to come and live with me?"

Eh, what?! I was bewildered. How did she manage to do that? No one could. Mr. Weasley explained it to me.

It was then that I noticed I spaced out, a hand waved in front of my eyes.

"Pa-pardon me?"

"Would-you-like-to-come-and-live-with-me-?" she said each word slowly. "but that would be when you return from Hogwarts."

I didn't say anything.

Natasha started mumbling.

"Of course, if you still want to live here, I underst –"

She didn't finish. I threw myself at her and gave her a bone-crushing hug.

I…I was going to get out of here. No…no more offending harsh word would be thrown at me. No more Mrs. Darcy's punishments. I was going to get a home. Something I had longed since I remember.

Tear were silently rolling down my cheeks.

"Thank you."


	4. To the Leaky Cauldron

_Dear Ms. Barton, _

_Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock. _

_Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign. A list of books for next year is enclosed. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Professor M. McGonagall _

_Deputy Headmistress_

I glanced at it sadly. It was like the eighth time I had read it and it really bothers me that I'm not going to Hogsmeade. I heard from the older students that it was an entirely wizarding village, and I had never set a foot there.

Natasha said that she couldn't sign it because she wasn't my guardian, Darcy was. Even if the woman had a change of heart, she wouldn't sign it, being sick and all.

Sighing, I went towards the kitchens. The living room was packed with a lot of girls surrounding a small TV, taking advantage of Darcy's sickness. She never let anyone see the television unless a visitor came.

I stopped and looked up at the reporter on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict. "…the public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately." And they passed a photo of said person, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle of hair. He looked quite madly.

Days passed as it turned to a week. Only two weeks more and I return to Hogwarts. I still haven't bought my things, feeling that it was going to be quite troublesome with Nat going and leaving constantly and with Darcy in bed.

It was next morning that I received a letter from Natasha.

_Dear Annie,_

_I know that I promised to help you to get your school books, but an emergency surged and I will not be able to arrive sooner._

_Don't panic. I know a way to arrive quickly to Diagon Alley without you getting lost. Very early in the street, pull out your wand and wave it above your head a couple of times. It looks ridiculous but it definitely works._

_I know I didn't consult you, but I talked with the Weasleys. They too are going to arrive one day before the classes start from their travel and they gladly accepted to keep an eye on you in the Leaky Cauldron, so you're going to stay there._

_Please don't be mad or sad at me. I assure you, this is quite importantly._

_See you later,_

_Natasha._

Oh, more news._ Joy._

* * *

Bitterly, I woke very early the next day. I mean, who in his right mind would recommend someone to wake up at _five_ in the morning? Even Hermione isn't that mad.

After I packed my trunk and got Caleb in his cage, I went outside. The cold air hit me fully in the face. There was fog everywhere; the only visible thing was the lampposts in the streets.

_Pull out your wand and wave it above your head a couple of times._

I must agree with Nat. I look utterly ridiculous.

BANG!

A purple, triple-decker bus appeared out of nowhere and stopped in front me. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled _The Knight Bus_.

A conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly. He was a teenager whom looked like eighteen years old. He had a pasty face and raccoon eyes. Looks like he hasn't seen the sun in years.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this morning."

I nodded unconsciously, staring at the big car.

"How much is it to the Leaky Cauldron in London?"

"Eleven Sickles," said Stan, "but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot- water bottle an' a toofbrush in the color of your choice."

I gave him eleven sickles.

"Take'er away, Ern," said Stan to the driver.

It was so sudden the movement that I didn't have time to grab myself. I ended on the floor.

* * *

Ernie, the driver, hit the brakes hard. Again, and hopely last time, I flew away and hit with my face and palms the window.

_Note to myself: never _ever_ take this ride again._

"'ere we are. Thank you for riding with us."

Stan helped me out with my trunk while I carried Cal's cage.

Once I had my things, the Knight Bus disappeared with a loud BANG!

I stood out there awkwardly.

It was cold.

_Very_ cold.

I knocked three times on the door of the pub. It looked gloomy _and_ creepy in this foggy morning.

Another three knocks.

Silence.

Caleb's soft hoots.

Three knocks more.

Why don't they open? It's cold!

I was going to knock again but five ring bells stopped me. Suppose they already heard me.

With a silent crack, the door opened slowly and one black eye peered at me.

"Who's this? What do you want?" asked the man behind the eye.

I frowned. "Sir, I just want to –"

"Name." he said abruptly. Okay, this man was either crazy or grumpy.

"Barton. Could you just –"

He opened the door fully. I recognized him as Tom, the innkeeper. Without a word, he pulled from my trunk and entered the pub.

Tom noticed that I wasn't following him. "Enter, please. Quickly." Mutely, I followed him.

There weren't enough people around. Only a woman cleaning the floor and a man reading a book while he made the spoon spin in his coffee. I suppose everyone else is asleep. How lucky they are.

While we climbed the stairs, a cleaning lady knocked on a door a little more away from us.

"Housekeeping."

As she opens the door, she's greeted by a thunderous roar and a rush of wind. I jumped back a little, and Caleb tried to hide in his visible cage. The door closed, but the lady seemed unperturbed.

"I'll come back later." And she dragged her broom to another hall.

Tom keep walking until we reached the last door in the hallway. Inside was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a chimney and a wardrobe.

"How much is it?" I asked him. Tom waved a hand like if it didn't matter.

"Your room is already paid until September."

"Oh," I didn't expect that. Must been Natasha.

"If there's anything you need Miss, don't hesitate to ask," Tom smiled and with a final bow, left.

I let Caleb out of his cage and he immediately perched himself on the wardrobe. Must be something of owls.

And without even removing my shoes, I slumped back onto the soft pillows and fell asleep.


	5. Shopping

"_Come Little Children_

_I'll Take Thee Away, Into A Land_

_Of Enchantment_

_Come Little Children_

_The Time's Come To Play_

_Here In My Garden_

_Of Shadows…"_

_The unknown yet beautiful voice sang in the middle of nowhere. I couldn't see anything at all, perhaps my eyes were closed, I really couldn't tell well._

"_Dear!" exclaimed the woman. I heard some heavy and quick steps coming toward us. _

"_He knows," it was a man and he was breathing heavily. It seemed that the woman understood what he meant because she gasped._

"_But – that's impossible! Their secret keeper –"_

"_The idiot changed it," the man said angrily. What were they talking about? I suddenly felt little drops in my forehead._

"_I have to warn them," the woman mumbled. I feel like if they were moving and I realized that she was holding me. She put me into the man's arms._

"_No, it's too dangerous."_

"_And who's gonna do it? You have to protect the Longbottoms."_

"_Listen –"_

"_NO! Listen to me! He's my friend and they need help!" she exclaimed angrily. I started crying, but they didn't listen._

"_My friend is there too!" retorted the man hurt._

"_That's why I need to Godric's Hollow, before…" she didn't finish._

_A heavy silence settled between them._

"_Okay," the man nodded heavily. "Okay. You know what to do. I'm going to be with Frank, Alice and little Nev in the Arx's Cathedral."_

"_I hope to not be late."_

"…_so do I."_

Ouch!

I opened my eyes abruptly. Caleb was biting constantly on my fingers.

"Ya," I mumbled at him. "I already up." The bird glared at me. "Don't look at me like that." The bird put himself in my chest and continued glaring. We continued like that for five more minutes. "You really are something, aren't ya?" I sighed.

After giving him some snacks, I put on some decent clothes and grabbed my booklist, heading to the back of the pub. The entrance to Diagon Alley is there.

I still remember the first time I came with Professor McGonagall: I was awing at everything and gaping at the stores with people wearing bright (and some) ridiculous clothes.

Once I had refilled my money bag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from the Barton vault at Gringotts, I went directly to Madam Malkin's. Unlike the last year, I have grown a foot and a half taller. Perhaps this year I reach Hermione's stature.

On my way, I noticed that a lot of boys and a few girls were fighting for a place to see something in Quality Quidditch Supplies shop.

"Isn't it amazing?"

"I heard from the owner the other day that the Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties," whispered dramatically a boy.

"They use them only in the World Cup!"

Even if I completely tried to ignore Harry and Ron in their Quidditch rants, I know understand Ron's obsession with brooms.

_** THE FIREBOLT **_

_THIS STATE-OF-THE-ART RACING BROOM SPORTS A STREAM-LINED, SUPERFINE HANDLE OF ASH, TREATED WITH A DIAMOND-HARD POLISH AND HAND-NUMBERED WITH ITS OWN REGISTRATION NUMBER. EACH INDIVIDUALLY SELECTED BIRCH TWIG IN THE BROOMTAIL HAS BEEN HONED TO AERODYNAMIC PERFECTION, GIVING THE FIREBOLT UNSURPASSABLE BALANCE AND PINPOINT PRECISION. THE FIREBOLT HAS AN ACCELERATION OF 150 MILES AN HOUR IN TEN SECONDS AND INCORPORATES AN UNBREAKABLE BRAKING CHARM. PRICE ON REQUEST._

If the price was on request, I highly doubt that they were bluffing. It was a moment like this that I often thought of trying for the school's team. Madam Hooch, whom offered me in first year on joining the team for helping Neville, reminded me last year that the offer was still open.

I was surprised to see that the bookshop window was, instead of the usual display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the glass that held about a hundred copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively. Maybe that's why the author called it Monster book. Who came with the idea?

When I entered Flourish and Blotts, the manager came hurrying towards me.

"Hogwarts?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"

"Yes, I need —"

"Get out of the way," said the manager impatiently, shoving me a little aside. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick, and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage.

I must say, the manager fought bravely, but otherwise the book won. The stick didn't last two seconds as it disappeared in the book's mouth: the gloves ended badly ripped. With a little help of me, we both used one of the thousands rolls of Spellotape he had in his desk and the book shook silently in protest. I hope it lasts because…well, I don't want to imagine it.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" the manager panted. Poor man.

He gave me _Unfogging the Future_ for Divination, _Intermediate Transfiguration _and _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three_.

I mentioned that I grew a little, but that was it. A little.

Now I had all my books blocking my sight, and the bags with my robes didn't help at all.

Luck was on my side this year too. Why did it have to be so crowded in this moment?

And like I said, luck didn't like me anymore.

I bumped hard into another person whom was in the same position as me. We both fell hard on the floor, our books flying away. The Monster Book started trembling in anger but the Spellotape stopped him from escaping.

"Ugh," I gasped slightly. The person fell on top of me, blocking me from escaping or to stand up.

"I am so sorry," the person started. Wait a minute. It was kind of deep that voice, but it was familiar. "I didn't see where I was going-"

I met those eyes that always astounded me.

_"Harry?!"_


	6. It's you again!

Well, it was an awkward meeting.

I really tried to hold my laughter when I saw Harry blush furiously when he recognized me. Amusing and all, we helped each other with the books until we returned to the Leaky Cauldron.

I asked him why he was here, and again, Harry blushed. When he told me the story I was alternating myself to either laugh at the situation or scold him for blowing up his Aunt. So, did what it came to my mind.

I laughed. And laughed harder at his sheepish face.

"You – you shouldn't have done that – but –" I choked on my laugh. Harry mock glared at me but soon joined me. I think we looked crazy laughing like that.

We talked. A lot. About his summer. About mine. Harry questioned me what I meant when I mentioned a deal on the letter I sent him, but I dismissed it by waving a hand. To my surprise – and I admit, utter happiness – he was using the charm bracelet I gave him, but he hid it in his sleeve. I told him that Natasha was going to be my guardian until next year and he congratulated me happily.

"I wish I could go from the Dursleys," he mumbled gloomy. I knew why he did that, so having nothing to say, I awkwardly patted his head.

The days passed, and I have to say, they were very uncomfortable. Even if we used to pass time together, only the _two_ of us seemed…weird. It made me feel – awkward. Harry was worst. He clearly wasn't used to be with girls, and with me – no less – made him be very awkward. I mean, he apparently blushed more constantly around because I teased him senseless of it.

Still, we stayed together and wherever we went, we both looked out for Hermione and Ron. In Diagon Alley, a lot of Hogwarts students came, because the term was so near. Like Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, both fans of Quidditch, or Neville Longbottom , whom apparently made a mistake in his booklist and his grandmother almost ripped off his ear.

We didn't stay to chat.

Also the news of Sirius Black flew quickly around here. They were posters around, nearly one in every store.

I whistled in amazement. We just passed five posters on a row. "He's more famous than you, Harry. What did he do to have so much attention?"

"Well, he escaped from a prison that is supposed to be unbreakable, I think the man needs some credit for that," Harry commented.

In these days I noticed that I wasn't the only one that liked the Firebolt. Every morning we went to window shopping and we stayed there, admiring the fastest broom in the whole world.

This morning wasn't different.

"Hey," Harry started, massaging his back neck. "Do you want to lunch?"

"Sure. Whe –"

"Annie! Harry!"

Both of them were there, sitting outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor — Ron looking incredibly freckly, Hermione very brown, both waving frantically at us.

"Finally!" Ron said, grinning at the two of us as we sat down. "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd both left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and -"

"We got all our school stuff last week," I explained.

"And how come you knew we're staying at the Leaky Cauldron?" Harry asked.

"Dad," Ron said simply.

Mr. Weasley worked at the Ministry of Magic, so there was no surprise that he would have heard.

"Did you really blow up your aunt, Harry?" Hermione asked in a very serious voice. At least I warned him he was going to be scolded by her.

Just the thought of his Aunt Marge puffing out sent me in a fit of giggles, Ron following shortly by laughing.

"I didn't mean to," Harry said while we laughed at the mental image. "I just — lost control."

"It's not funny, you two," Hermione looked at us sharply. "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."

"So am I," Harry admitted. "Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested." He looked at Ron. "Your dad doesn't know why Fudge let me off, does he?"

"Probably 'cause it's you, isn't it?" Ron shrugged, still chuckling. "Famous Harry Potter and all that. I'd hate to see what the Ministry'd do to me if I blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig me up first, because Mum would've killed me. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"

"Seriously?" I asked her. Hermione nodded, beaming at us.

"Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things."

"Excellent!" Harry said happily. "So, have you got all your new books and stuff?"

"Look at this," Ron said, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it. "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. And we've got all our books -" He pointed at a large bag under his chair. "What about those _Monster Books,_eh? The assistant nearly cried when we said we wanted two."

"What's all that, Hermione?" Harry asked, pointing at not one but three bulging bags in the chair next to her.

"Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I?" Hermione said. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies -"

"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes at Harry and I. "You're Muggle-born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"

"But it'll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view," Hermione said earnestly.

"Are you planning to eat or sleep at all this year, Hermione?" Harry asked while Ron sniggered.

"Leave her alone," I glared at the sniggering Ron. "If she wants to study to death is her decision." Not noticing that I mentioned death, Hermione smiled at me.

"Blimey, Anne," Ron frowned at me. "Your glare is more intense this year."

I smirked at him. "I've been practicing."

"I've still got ten Galleons," Hermione said, checking her purse. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."

"How about a nice _book_?" Ron said innocently. I glared again.

"No, I don't think so," Hermione said composedly. "I really want an owl. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig, Annie now has Caleb and you've got Errol –"

"I haven't," Ron interrupted quickly. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers." He pulled his pet rat out of his pocket. "And I want to get him checked over," he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of us. "I don't think Egypt agreed with him."

Scabbers _was_ looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers

"There's a magical creature shop just over there," Harry said. Yeah, he was a week more than me around. He knew better Diagon Alley than I. Can you believe I got lost twice in a street? And that he had to look out for me?

"You could see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Hermione can get her owl."

So they paid for their ice cream and we crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie.

It wasn't a big place. It was a miracle that the four of us even got space to enter. Every inch of wall was hidden cage, the occupants squeaking, jabbering, and hissing. Besides, it smelled.

The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Harry, Ron, Hermione and I waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that weree playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter.

"It's my rat," he told the witch. "He's been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt."

"Bang him on the counter," the witch said, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially drop dead.

"Hm," the witch said, picking up Scabbers. "How old is this rat?"

"Dunno," Ron said. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

"What powers does he have?" the witch asked, examining Scabbers closely. Powers?

The witch's eyes moved from Scabber's tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she said.

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," Ron said defensively.

"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," the witch said. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these -"

She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron muttered, "Show-offs."

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," the witch said, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.

"Okay," Ron said. "How much - OUCH!"

Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" the witch cried, but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.

"Scabbers!" Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Harry followed, leaving Hermione and I in the shop with the witch and the creature.

It was a cat. Enormous, ginger, thick fluffy fur. You get the idea.

The witch had grabbed a hold of the feline and was scolding him.

"Bad Crookshanks, bad." She sighed, turning to Hermione and I. "I'm sorry about your friend and his rat. Crookshanks was trying to get attention. He'd been here for ages and no one's shown any interest in him whatsoever." She picked the cat up and turned to put him in a cage.

"Wait!" Hermione said quickly, stepping forward. Oh, dear. Ron wasn't going to like this.

* * *

Yes people. Hermione bought the cat. And like I imagined, Ron wasn't happy at all.

"You _bought_ that monster?" Ron asked, his mouth hanging open.

"He's _gorgeous,_ isn't he?" Hermione said, glowing.

_If you looked to the bright side, maybe_. Harry looked at the cat curiously.

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" Ron said.

"You mean Scabbers," I muttered.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" Hermione said, petting him. Crookshanks purred loudly in her arms.

"It can be that bad, can he?" I said.

"And what about Scabbers?" Ron hissed, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," Hermione said, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand.

"And stop worrying, Ron. He's going to be in our dormitory with us," I said.

"And Scabbers in yours, what's the problem? Poor Crookshanks, that witch said he'd been in there for ages; no one wanted him."

"Wonder why," Ron said sarcastically as we set off toward the Leaky Cauldron.


	7. Conversations

We found Mr. Weasley sitting in the bar, reading the _Daily Prophet._

"Harry! Anya!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you two?"

"Fine, thanks," Harry and I said as we, Ron, and Hermione joined Mr. Weasley with all our shopping.

Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and I saw the face of Sirius Black staring at us. Dunno why, but those empty eyes seemed familiar to me.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" Harry asked.

"No," Mr. Weasley said, looking extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" Ron asked. "It'd be good to get some more money -"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Mr. Weasley said, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It's the Azkaban guards who'll get him back, you mark my words."

"I think you just jinxed it, Mr. Weasley," I commented. He was going to retort but Mrs. Weasley arrived.

Mrs. Weasley was carrying a lot of bags, but Fred and George, both famous pranksters at Hogwarts, seemed to be carrying the heavy stuff. Following behind them was Percy, newly elected Head Boy, and like I thought most probably before, was wearing his new shinning badge. Almost invisible, Ginny came lastly.

Like me in our last year, she too was controlled by Tom Riddle AKA Voldemort. With my memories restored, she tried to save me from the pain of doing the bad job. It was in vain, but the action talked a lot of her. We both came to an agreement to not talk about it this year, because it brought very bad feelings.

She waved smiling at me, but when she saw Harry, Ginny froze. She went the same fiery red as her hair, looked quickly at the floor muttered a "hello" and barely glanced at him again.

Percy however stopped in front of us and held his hand with a solemn look. I frowned. Somebody died?

"Harry, Anya. How nice to see you both."

"Hello, Percy," Harry and I said in sync. Harry was trying to not laugh, but I was smiling widely because this looked rather funny.

"I hope you're both well?" Percy said pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.

"Very well, thanks -"

"Harry, Anya!" Fred said, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply _splendid_ to see you both -"

"Marvelous," George said, pushing Fred aside and seizing my and Harry's hands in turn. "Absolutely spiffing."

Percy scowled.

"That's enough, now," Mrs. Weasley said. "Mum!" Fred said as though he'd only just spotted her and seized her hand too. "How really corking to see you -"

"I said, that's enough," Mrs. Weasley said, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. "Hello, Harry, Annie, dears. I suppose you've both heard our exciting news?" She pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.

"I don't doubt that," Mrs. Weasley said, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made either of you prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" George asked, looking revolted at the very idea. "It'd take all the fun out of life."

Ginny and I giggled.

"You want to set a better example for your sister!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Percy loftily. Ginny and I exchanged looks. We both thought the same. _Yeah, right._ "I'm going up to change for dinner…"

He disappeared and George heaved a sigh.

"We tried to shut him in a pyramid," he told us. My ears perked at that. "But Mum spotted us."

I smiled and went towards Ron, whom talked to Hermione. Well, Hermione was asking if he did all his homework.

I tapped his shoulder. And Ron looked at me confused.

"I won." His eyes widened in recognition and he groaned.

"What did you 'won'?" Hermione asked, eyeing us as Ron pulled out from his pockets a bag of sweets.

"I was hoping you forgot," he muttered as I grabbed the bag.

"Not likely."

"Why is he giving you a bag? And what does it have?" Hermione demanded.

"Ron and I made a bet," I looked inside the bag. Yep, it had everything I need. "I said that the twins were going to do something AND, that Mrs. Weasley was going to catch them in the act."

"You got lucky," Ron said.

I smiled at him. "Wanna bet again?"

* * *

Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair. Tom the innkeeper put three tables together in the parlor, and the seven Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and I ate our way through five delicious courses.

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" Fred asked as we dug into a sumptuous chocolate pudding.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," Mr. Weasley said.

We all looked up at him.

"Why?" Percy asked curiously.

"It's because of you, Perce," George said seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the hood with HB on them -"

" - for Humongous Bighead," Fred said.

I smiled, trying to not laugh like the others. Percy scowled and Mrs. Weasley looked sternly at her sons.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Percy asked again, in a dignified voice.

"Well, as we haven't got one anymore," Mr. Weasley said, " - and as I work there, they're doing me a favor -"

His ears went red. I remember that if he felt under pressure, Mr. Weasley did that. Heh, Ron does the same. Must be from family.

"Good thing, too," Mrs. Weasley said briskly. "Do you realize how much luggage you've all got between you? A nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground. . . .You are all packed, aren't you?"

"Ron hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," Percy said, in a long-suffering voice. "He's dumped them on my bed."

"You'd better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won't have much time in the morning," Mrs. Weasley called down the table. Ron scowled at Percy.

Everyone looking sleepy, including me, went to their own rooms. I have already packed so I wasn't worried about that.

I went to Hermione's room and found Ginny already there.

"Did you bring them?" she asked. I nodded and showed her the bag of sweets. She smiled.

We spent all the night talking about little thing like school, our life, little secrets, etc.

"I'm going to change," Ginny suddenly said. Both Hermione, whom was petting Crookshanks, and I looked at her.

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"Because," she breathed slowly. "I don't want to be compared to my brothers." I looked at her with no emotion. Ginny didn't like pity thrown at her. "And I want to forget him."

Hermione and I exchanged a look. She was talking about Harry. Ginny was little but, still…

"For once, I want to be noticed – not because I have the Weasley hair, or because of my brothers. I want to be known as Ginny, not another Weasley."

We continued talking.

"Who do you like, Hermione?" Ginny asked. I smirked. Hermione went a faint pink.

"Non – nonsense. I need to study this year, not be looking at – or thinking of – boys." She stammered.

"Of course," I said. I already knew she had a slight crush on Ron. I mean, who fight with someone else because they are _just friends_? If that was the thing, then I would be fighting with Harry all the time.

"What about you, Anne?" Hermione asked abruptly. I scowled at her. Ginny now had the attention on me. "Do you like someone?"

"Honestly, I haven't thought of it." Ginny scoffed.

"Please, someone must have caught your attention."

I shook my head. "I was more worried about getting money for this year's presents."

Ginny suddenly perked. "By the way, congratulations. Mum told me you are going to live with Miss Rosenberg next summer."

"What?!" Hermione screeched.

And so began the scolding for not telling her earlier about this important news.


	8. Off to the train

We three woke up very earlier. Ginny still had something to pack so I helped her discretely. Hermione was going to tut her if she knew.

After she was ready, we set off together for breakfast. Mr. Weasley was gazing seriously to the _Daily Prophet _so we didn't interrupt him and we seated ourselves in the counter.

Mrs. Weasley shortly joined us and we started talking about school. She promptly began to tell us about the time she made a love potion in her Fourth year. It was rather funny the situation in what the boy ended. We started giggling at it, and more so as Mrs. Weasley looked rather sheepish and warned us of not trying to do one right now.

_Code word: right now._

After breakfast, I went towards my room and tried to put Caleb on his cage, but the bloody bird keeps flying high. He was mocking me about my stature I suppose. With a promise of sweets, he finally stayed put and I grabbed my trunk dragging it down the narrow stairs. I set it and Caleb near the door, where there was already a growing pile of trunks, along with Hedwig and Hermes, who was Percy's owl. A small wickerwork basket stood beside the heap of trunks, spitting loudly.

"It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermione cooed through the wickerwork. "I'll let you out on the train."

"You won't," Ron snapped. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?"

He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket.

Mr. Weasley, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck his head inside.

"They're here," he said. "Harry, come on."

We followed him to and old fashioned dark green car which was driven by a furtive-looking wizard wearing a suit of emerald velvet. Harry got in first, next me, Hermione, Ron and to his chagrin, Percy joined us shortly.

Thank god it wasn't like the Knight Bus.

When we reached King's Cross Station, the Ministry people found trolleys for all of us and helped us load our trunks. They saluted Mr. Weasley and drove away. He kept a hand on Harry's elbow the whole way to the station.

"Right then" he said. "Let's do this in pairs, as there are so many of us. I'll go first with Harry."

Mr. Weasley went with Harry through the barrier first, second where Percy and Ginny. I went with Hermione, Ron with Fred, and George and Mrs. Weasley were last. Once we were together, Harry and Ron led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. We loaded the trunks onto it, stowing Hedwig, Caleb and Crookshanks in the luggage rack, then went back outside to say good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley kissed all her children, then Hermione, me next, and lastly Harry, giving him an extra hug. Mr. Weasley arrived calling Harry's name softly and nobody noticed them go behind a pillar. Except me, of course.

Thinking of it, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked troubled and, in Mrs. Weasley case, a little paranoid. What was happening here?

A minute later, the train whistle sounded. The guards started shutting the train doors. Harry was still on the platform with Mr. Weasley. Ron and Hermione had both gotten on bored.

"Arthur, quickly!" I heard Mrs. Weasley shout to her husband. Harry ran to our compartment and Ron opened the door and let Harry jump on. We all waved to the Weasley patriarchs until they disappeared from view.

"I need to talk to you in private," Harry muttered to Ron, Hermione, and me.

"Go away, Ginny," Ron said.

"Oh, that's nice," Ginny scowled at him.

I frowned. "He means if would you mind to leave us alone to talk for a bit?"

Ginny gave me a dazzling smile and happily said, "Sure," and walked away.

"Why did she listen to you?" Ron wondered shocked.

"Girl secret. Does that answer your question?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione and I set off down the opposite corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train.

This had only one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I checked on the threshold. The Hogwarts Express was usually reserved for students and we had never seen an adult there before, except for the witch who pushed the food cart.

The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard's robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed as we sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window.

"Professor R. J. Lupin." whispered Hermione at once.

"How'd you know that?"

"It's on his case," I pointed at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name _Professor R. J. Lupin_ was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.

"Wonder what he teaches?" Ron said, frowning at Professor Lupin's pallid profile.

"That's obvious," Hermione whispered. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Hope he's up to it," I dryly said. Ron nodded.

"He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway..." He turned to Harry. "What were you going to tell us?"

Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Wesley's argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him. I stared at him incredulously. Sirius Black is after Harry?

"Are you jinxed or something?" Harry glared at me. "What?!"

Hermione whom had her hands on her mouth in a terrified expression lowered them and said, "Sirius Black escaped to come after _you_? Oh, Harry...you'll have to be really, really careful. Don't go looking for trouble, Harry-"

"I don't go looking for trouble," Harry said. "Trouble usually finds _me_."

"You're practically a magnet for them."

"Not helping Annie."

"How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?" Ron said, but he too was shaking.

I wondered if we were going to have a peaceful year of class in this life.

"No one knows how he got out of Azkaban," Ron whispered. "No one's ever done it before. And he was a top-security prisoner, too."

"But they'll catch him, won't they?" Hermione asked. "I mean, they've got all the Muggles looking out for him too..."

"What's that noise?" Ron asked.

A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. We looked all around the compartment.

"It's coming from your trunk, Harry," Ron said, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. A moment later he had pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Harry's robes. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Ron's hand and glowing brilliantly.

"Is that a _Sneakoscope_?" Hermione asked interestedly, standing up for a better look.

"Yeah...mind you, it's a very cheap one," Ron said. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Harry."

"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" Hermione said shrewdly.

"No!" Ron said right away.

We all stared at him.

"Well...I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys...but how else was I supposed to get Harry's present to him?"

Now _that_ was more believable.

"Stick it back in the trunk," Harry said, "or it'll wake him up."

Ron stuffed the Sneakoscope back in an old sock in Harry's trunk, and sat back down.

"We could get it checked in Hogsmeade," Ron said. "They sell that sort of thing in Dervish and Banges, magical instruments and stuff. Fred and George told me."

"Do you know much about Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked keenly. "I've read it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain -"

"Yeah, I think it is," Ron said in an offhand sort of way, "but that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!"

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"It's this sweetshop," said Ron, a dreamy look coming over his face, "where they've got _everything_…Pepper Imps — they make you smoke at the mouth — and great fat Chocoballs full of strawberry mousse and clotted cream, and really excellent sugar quills, which you can suck in class and just look like you're thinking what to write next–"

"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione pressed on eagerly. "In _Sites of Historical Sorcery _it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain —"

"– and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying.

Hermione looked around at Harry and I.

"Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?"

I smiled sadly.

" 'Spect it will," Harry said heavily. "You'll have to tell us when you've found out."

"What d'you mean?" said Ron.

"We can't go," I said. Hermione narrowed her eyes. Ooooh, I forgot to tell her that. She's going to throw a fit to me. Hope she doesn't say anything about why did I tell Harry.

Harry nodded. "The Dursleys didn't sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn't either."

"Natasha isn't my guardian yet, and with Darcy on bed, well…"

Ron looked horrified.

_"Neither of you are allowed to come?_ But - no way - McGonagall or someone will give you both permission -"

Harry gave a hollow laugh while I snorted. McGonagall never favorite anyone.

" - or we can ask Fred and George, they know every secret passage out of the castle -"

"Ron!" Hermione said sharply. "I don't think Harry or Annie should be sneaking out of school with Black on the loose -"

"Yeah, I expect that's what McGonagall will say when I ask for permission," Harry said.

"But if _we're_ with him," Ron said, "Black wouldn't dare-"

"Oh, Ron, don't talk rubbish," Hermione snapped. "Black's already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street. Do you really think he's going to worry about attacking Harry just because _we're_ there?"

She started opening the straps to Crookshanks' basket.

"Don't let that thing out," Ron said, but it was too late. Crookshanks jumped out of the basket, stretched, and leapt lightly up onto Ron's knees. The lump in Ron's pocket trembled and he shoved Crookshanks angrily away.

"Get out of here!"

"Ron, don't!" Hermione said angrily.

Ron was about to answer back when Professor Lupin stirred. We watched him apprehensively, but he simply turned his head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on.

The Hogwarts Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened. People were chasing backward and forward past the door of our compartment. Crookshanks had now settled in an empty seat, his squashed face turned toward Ron, his yellow eyes on Ron's top pocket.

At one o'clock, the plump witch with the food cart arrived at the compartment door.

"D'you think we should wake him up?" Ron asked awkwardly, nodding toward Professor Lupin. "He looks like he could do with some food."

Hermione approached Professor Lupin cautiously.

"Er - Professor?" she said. "Excuse me - Professor?"

He didn't move.

"Don't worry, dear," the witch said as she handed Harry and I each a large stack of Cauldron Cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."

"I suppose he _is_ asleep?" Ron said quietly as the witch slid the compartment door closed. "I mean - he hasn't died, has he?"

"Nah, he's breathing," I said, handing Hermione one of the Cauldron Cakes. She shushed me, but the Professor didn't even stir.

Even he was half sleep – half dead, having a teacher in our compartment had its uses.

Midafternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, we heard footsteps in the corridor again, and our three least favorite people appeared at the door: Draco Malfoy, flanked by his bodyguards, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

"Well, look who it is," Malfoy said, looking at Harry and Ron. "Potty and the Weasel."

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled.

"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley," Malfoy said. "Did your mother die of shock?"

Ron stood up so quickly he knocked Crookshanks's basket to the floor. Professor Lupin gave a snort.

"Who's that?" Malfoy asked, taking an automatic step backward as he spotted Lupin.

"Oh, him? He's the new teacher!" I perked cheerfuly.

"What were you saying, Malfoy?" Harry stood up.

Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed; he wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose.

"C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Crabbe and Goyle, and they disappeared.

Harry and Ron sat down. Ron started massaging his knuckles in a threatening way.

"I'm not going to take any crap from Malfoy this year," he said angrily. "I mean it. If he makes one more crack about my family, I'm going to get hold of his head and -"

Ron made a violent gesture in midair. I laughed

"Ron," Hermione hissed, pointing at Professor Lupin, "be _careful_..."

But Professor Lupin was deaf and apparently dead to even be listening at us.

The rain thickened as the train sped yet farther north; the windows were now a solid, shimmering gray, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Professor Lupin slept.

"We must be nearly there," Ron said, leaning forward to look past Professor Lupin at the now completely black window.

The words had hardly left him when the train started to slow down.

"Great," Ron said, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast..."

"We can't be there yet," Hermione said, checking her watch.

"So why're we stopping?"

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

Harry being the closest one to the door got up to look into the corridor. But the train suddenly came to a jolt and the luggage felt from their place.

All the lamps went down.


	9. Dementor Aboard

I couldn't see anything! Was I blind?! What the hell was going on?!

In front of me (I suppose so) Ron voiced my thoughts. I tried to stand up but ended standing on something hard.

"Ouch!' Hermione gasped. "Ron, that was my foot!"

"Actually, that was me." Even in the darkness I could feel the intense gaze of her daggers. "Aw, come on Hermione! Don't look at me like that, I'm sorry!"

And suddenly someone tried to sit on me!

"Whoah!"

"Sorry!" it was Harry. I felt my cheeks warm at the sudden action that I didn't say anything. He, for his part, gave a big jump and he wasn't above me anymore.

"D'you think we've broken down?"

"Dunno..."

There was a squeaking sound and I watched as Ron pressed himself against the window, trying his best to look out the window. He wiped a patch to see clearly but we still remained in the dark.

"There's something moving out there," Ron said. "I think people are coming aboard..."

The compartment door suddenly opened again.

"Sorry—d'you know what's going on?-Ouch-sorry-"

"Hullo, Neville," Harry said.

"Harry? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea! Sit down —"

I heard a hissing sound and a yelp. It sounded like Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks. Poor cat… or maybe poor Neville?

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," Hermione said. After like five seconds I heard a thud and two squeals of pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's _that_?"

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron —"

"Come in and sit down —"

"Not here!" I heard Harry shout besides me. "I'm here!" I tried to stand up and somehow ended tripping over someone.

"Ouch!"

"Sorry Neville!" I sheepishly said.

"Quiet!" a hoarse and new voice said. Nice of Professor Lupin to finally join us.

Nobody spoke. There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of fire held out in front of him.

But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupin's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. My eyes darted downward, and what I saw made my heart drop. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water...

An intense cold swept over us all. I felt my own breath catch in my chest. The cold went deeper than my skin. It was inside my chest, it was inside my very heart...

Everything was so cold. Why it felt as if there was no happiness? I started panicking. I couldn't hear anything!

I remembered the guilt. What I did last year to Hermione. How I sent the basilisk to kill Harry. The ache I felt when I started remembering my own actions.

The hits that Darcy gave me in the hands. The girls singing 'Freaky Anne' around me when I was six.

And like a whisper in the darkness, I heard the sound of a cold high pitched laugh. It sounded very feminine. I shivered.

I heard a pained grunt of a man.

"Crucio, Crucio, CRUCIO!" the woman chanted maniacally. Many flashes of red went to a same point.

It all stopped at once. A murmur of disbelief suddenly rose from dark cloaked men. The woman heavily breathed.

"Why…?" she whispered. "WHY CANT YOU JUST DROP DEAD?!" is that when I hear whimpers and frantic pleas of stopping, even if they weren't being attacked anymore –

"ANYA!"

I shook my head. The lanterns were functioning again.

It was Professor Lupin whom called me. He had a piece of chocolate on his hand offering it to me, but he had a slightly concerned look on his brown eyes.

Neville was beside me, white like a paper sheet. Ginny was peering at me from next to him. Even Ron and Hermione, whom were besides Harry with a chocolate in hand, were looking at me weird.

"Where did it go? What happened?" I asked.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in deep concentration. She always did that when she studied.

"A dementor." Lupin answered. "One of the guards of Azkaban. It's gone now. It was searching the train for Sirius Black," he explained laconically, handing me a piece of – chocolate? He stood up and moved toward the sliding door.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me..."

He strolled past Harry and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're both okay?" Hermione asked, watching the two of us anxiously.

"I don't get it...What happened?" Harry asked, wiping off his face.

"Well—that thing—the dementor—stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face)-and you—you-" Hermione said.

"I though you both were having fits or something," Ron said, still looking scared. "You both went sort of rigid and Harry, you fell out of your seat and then started twitching -"

"And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand," Hermione said, "and he said, 'None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go.' But the dementor didn't move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away..."

"You started muttering," Neville said softly to me, but nobody noticed. "Things like stop, and… Either way, it was horrible." He said in a higher voice. I frowned. Did I say something unusual? "Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?"

"I felt weird," Ron said, shifting his shoulders uncomfortably. "Like I'd never be cheerful again..."

Ginny gave a small sob. Hermione put an arm around her in comfort.

"No," Ron said, looking anxiously at Harry, then myself. "Ginny was shaking like mad, though… and Annie was like – gone. You didn't move or hear us at all, until Lupin snapped at you."

Few minutes later, Professor Lupin came back. He paused in the doorway of our compartment and said, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know..."

I looked at my chocolate. I forgot I had it. I bit a corner of it and suddenly I felt warmness on my face.

"We'll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes," Lupin said. "Are you both all right, Harry, Anya?"

How did he knew my name? Harry's 'course is obvious, but me?

"Fine," Harry muttered. I nodded in agreement.

We didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville's pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets.

I heard Hagrid calling, "Firs' years this way!"

"All righ', you four?" he called to us, but we were only able to wave at him. We followed the crowd to the stagecoaches and climbed in one. It took off towards the castle, pulling itself, like it did last year.

In our way, though the tiny windows, we spotted two dementors guarding the entrance. I felt cold again. What really happened there?

It didn't end there, of course. The unpleasant and familiar emotion of every year arrived early.

"You _fainted, _Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually _fainted_?" Malfoy elbowed past me and Hermione to block our way into the castle.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron said.

"Did you faint as well, Weasley?" Malfoy said loudly. "Did the scary old dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"

"Is there a problem?" a mild voice asked. Professor Lupin had just gotten out of the next carriage.

Malfoy gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the delapidated suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, "Oh, no - er -_Professor_," then he smirked at Crabbe and Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle.

Hermione prodded Ron in the back to make him hurry, and the four of us joined the crowd swarming up the steps, through the giant oak front doors, into the cavernous entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches, and housed a magnificent marble staircase that led to the upper floors.

Who would say that every student would be grim because of a cloaked ghost, huh?

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger!" McGonagall's voice echoed like a rumble above the air. She hadn't changed at all. Always looking strict.

"There's no need to look so worried - I just want a word in my office," she said. "Move along there, Barton, Weasley."

Ron and I stared as Professor McGonagall ushered Hermione and Harry away from the crowd.

The silence between us was deafening. Except for the crowd, obviously.

"What d'you think she wants with them?" Ron asked me.

I shook my head. "Dunno."

More silence.

"What do you think there's going to be in the feast?"

I grinned.

"Ron, my friend, you should have seen the feast of the last year. Specially the one on Halloween."

And Ron demanded with envy to describe what there was to eat as we made our way to the Gryffindor table. We took a seat beside Neville, whom still looked a little white from the train but at least color started to appear on his face.

Professor Flitwick entered the Great Hall carrying the Sorting Hat, the three-legged stool, and a list of the first years' names. He looked like he was going to fall over.

"Is it just me or the hat made mentions of Sirius Black in the song?" Neville asked. Now that I noticed, the hat _did _say that something black as darkness would approach this year.

"Maybe he's referring to the dementors," I said.

"With our luck, is going to be both," Ron snorted. Neville and I couldn't help but agree with him.

At last, as Flitwick carried out the Sorting Hat, Harry and Hermione arrived.

"What was all that about?" Ron muttered to Harry. He was going to explain but at the exact moment, Mr. Dumbledore, Headmaster of the school, stood up and everyone went quiet.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore said, the candlelight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He paused. It seemed the he wasn't fond of the idea.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises—or even Invisibility Cloaks." I saw Harry and Ron look at each other.

"It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to our prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors."

A few seats down, Percy puffed out his chest.

"On a happier note," Dumbledore continued, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Only those, including me, who were on the compartment clapped. Everyone else only looked at him.

"Look at Snape!" Ron hissed.

We all looked at Snape. It was no secret that he wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, so it was obvious he would be resented or mad at the new teacher. The detail here _is_, that Snape was looking at Professor Lupin with the same look he throws at Harry since he met him. Loathing, pure and heartily loathing.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore said, "Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his game keeping duties."

Between the four of us we shared a stunned look. We soon joined in the applause, that it was tumultuous from the Gryffindor table. Hagrid was ruby-red faced with a wide grin staring down at his hands.

"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I were the last to stop clapping, and as Professor Dumbledore started speaking again, we saw that Hagrid was wiping his eyes on the tablecloth.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore said. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before us filled suddenly with food and drink.

It was very delicious and all, but Harry and Hermione forced Ron and me to end quickly to go and congratulate Hagrid.

At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for us all to go to bed, and we got our chance.

"Congratulations, Hagrid!" Hermione squealed as we reached the teachers' table.

"All down ter you four," Hagrid said, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up as us. "Can' believe it...great man, Dumbledore...came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough...It's what I always wanted..."

Overcome with emotion, he buried his face in his napkin, and Professor McGonagall shooed us away.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and, very tired now, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to Gryffindor Tower. A large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress asked them, "Password?"

"Coming through, coming through!" Percy called from behind the crowd. "The new password's 'Fortuna Major'!"

"oh no," gasped Neville in front of me.

"Why don't you write them down?" I said to him.

Neville grinned and said "Good idea, thanks Annie!"

"But try and don't lose the paper, Nev."

Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided toward their separate staircases. I climbed the spiral stair and we reached our familiar, circular dormitory with its five four-poster beds.

It was good to be home again.


	10. Bad Omens

Remember when I said that I was glad and happy to be home? I forgot it had its issues too.

Can you believe Hermione woke me up at six o' clock in the morning? _Again?!_

And like I do every first day of classes since our First year, I tossed a pillow at her.

She dragged me downstairs to the common room where Harry and Ron waited for us.

"What took you so long?" Ron asked exasperated. Hermione pointed at me and that seemed enough reason for Harry. Yes, he found out he shouldn't wake me up earlier the bad way too.

We went down to the Great Hall and very unpleasantly, the first thing we saw was Draco Malfoy, apparently telling a funny story to the laughing Slytherins. And as we passed, he did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and the laughing only increased.

"Ignore him," Hermione said to Harry. "Just ignore him, it's not worth it..."

"Hey, Potter!" shrieked Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl with a face like a pug. "Potter! The dementors are coming, Potter! _Woooooooo!"_

I glared fiercely at her and said coldly, "Really mature Parkinson. Think nobody noticed your red puffed eyes and the shaking from yesterday night?" Parkinson paled as the Gryffindors looked at her snickering. "Thought so."

Some students from others houses were looking at me strangely as if they were looking at me for the first time. Don't blame the first years, the others though…

Even Ron and Hermione looked at me surprised. Harry however, was looking at me strangely too. Not strangely surprised, strangely…different.

We sat down with the Weasley twins, Fred and George.

"Congrats Annie-" "-never knew you had it in ya!" they both said. I blushed. Why was everyone taking this as a matter of importance?

Oh, right. No one, except Hermione had seen my snappish side. It usually comes with what I call my 'doll mode'. I terrify everyone including myself when I turn suddenly cold and say something very unAnni-sh then.

As I piled food on my plate, George started passing us our schedules.

"New third-year schedules," he said. Harry looked miserable again. "What's up with you, Harry?"

"Malfoy," Ron spat out, glaring at the prat. I looked at the table and saw Malfoy pretend to faint again.

"That little git," George said. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the dementors were down at our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"

"Nearly wet himself," Fred said.

"I wasn't too happy myself," George said. "They're horrible things, those dementors..."

"Sort of freeze your insides, don't they?" Fred said.

"You didn't pass out, though, did you?" Harry said.

"Forget it, Harry," George said. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Fred? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been, he came back all weak and shaking...They suck the happiness out of a place, dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there."

"Anyway, we'll see how happy Malfoy looks after our first Quidditch match," he said. "Gyffindor versus Slytherin. First game of this season, remember?"

I looked down at my schedule and saw that I had Divination, Transfiguration, and then Care of Magical Creatures after lunch.

Hermione examined hers too and happily said, "Ooh, good, we're starting some new subjects today."

"Hermione," Ron said, frowning as he looked over her shoulder, "they've messed up your schedule. Look - they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough _time_."

"I'll manage. I've fixed it all with Professor McGonagall."

"But look," Ron said, laughing, "see this morning? Nine o'clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And" - Ron leaned closer to the schedule, disbelieving - "_look_ - underneath that, Arithmancy, _nine o'clock_. I mean, I know you're good, Hermione, but no one's _that_ good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Don't be silly," Hermione said shortly. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once."

"Well, then -"

"Pass the marmalade," Hermione said.

"But -"

"Here," I passed her the marmalade. "The brownies, please?" and Hermione passed them to me.

"Here you go."

"Thanks." Ron scowled into his pumpkin juice, noticing how I helped her evade the interrogating he was pushing her into. He muttered something like "girls" and I smiled inwardly. We had to stick together as the only girls here. I wonder how 'Mione would manage if she didn't have me?

Hagrid stopped by the table then on his way to the staff table.

"All right'?" he asked. "Yer in my firs' ever lesson! Right after lunch! Bin up since five getting' everythin' ready...Hope it's okay...Me, a teacher, hones'ly..."

"Wonder what he's been getting ready," Ron said after Hagrid had walked away, a note of anxiety in his voice. I only hope is not something dangerous. Hagrid had a soft spot for murderous creatures such as a dragon, a three headed dog, a spider more bigger than himself, and I don't want to know if he has more up his sleeve.

The hall was starting to empty as people headed off toward their first lesson. Ron checked his schedule.

"We'd better go, look, Divination's at the top of North Tower. It'll take us ten minutes to get there..."

Hastily, we finished our breakfast, said goodbye to Fred and George and walked through the hall. Last thing we saw was Malfoy fake fainting again. How an ass is he.

The bad luck continued as we travelled to the North Tower. We have been two years in Hogwarts but apparently we hadn't learned everything about the castle. And there was the detail that we hadn't been in the North Tower _ever_.

"There's - got - to - be - a - shortcut," Ron panted as we climbed our seventh long staircase and emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.

"I think it's this way," Hermione said, peering down the empty passage to the right.

"Can't be," Ron said. "That's south, look, you can see a bit of the lake out of the window..."

"Aha!" someone yelled, making me jump. I looked around and saw a knight on a fat, gray pony. "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perhaps? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"

The knight pulled out a sword and started swinging it back and forth, causing him to topple off his horse and land face down on the grass.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked moving closer to the moving painting.

"Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!"

I raised an eyebrow at that. The knight tried to push himself up off the ground with his sword, but the blade only sank down in the ground. He tried to tug it back out, but he couldn't. Finally, he plopped onto the ground.

"Listen," Harry said, "we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?"

"A quest!" the knight exclaimed. "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!" He again tried to tug on his sword and tried and failed to mount his pony. He gave up on both accounts and said, "On foot then, good sirs and gentle ladies! On! On!"

And he ran, clanking loudly, into the left side of the frame and out of sight.

We hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his armor. Every now and then we spotted him running through a picture ahead.

"Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!" the knight yelled, and we saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in crinolines, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow spiral staircase.

Puffing loudly, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I climbed the tightly spiraling steps, getting dizzier and dizzier, until at last we heard the murmur of voices above us and knew we had reached the classroom.

"Farewell!" the knight cried, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking monks. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"

"Yeah, we'll call you," Ron muttered as the knight disappeared, "if we ever need someone mental."

We climbed the last few stairs to a landing, where the rest of the class was gathered.

"'Sybill Trelawney, Divination Teacher'" Harry read a small plaque on a trapdoor above us. "How're we supposed to get up there?"

The trapdoor suddenly opened and a silver ladder fell to Harry's feet.

"After you," Ron said, grinning, so Harry climbed the ladder first. I followed close behind.

The classroom was in fact a small attic with twenty small, circular tables inside of it. Every window was closed so it felt warmer, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.

Ron appeared at my and Harry's shoulders as the class assembled around us, all talking in whispers.

"Where is she?" Ron asked.

"Welcome," A voice came suddenly out of the shadows, a soft misty sort of voice. "How nice to see you in the physical world at last." Professor Trelawney was giving the impression of a bug. She was a thin witch, wearing a large shawl and very large glasses, which magnified her eyes. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.

"Sit, my children, sit," she said, and we all climbed awkwardly into armchairs or sank onto poufs. Harry, Ron, Hermione and I sat ourselves around the same round table.

"Welcome to Divination," Professor Trelawney said, having seated herself in a winged armchair in front of the fire. "My name if Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye."

Nobody spoke.

"So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field..."

I sighed. So I spent money on a book I'm not going to use at all? Meanwhile, Harry and Ron glanced, grinning, at Hermione, who looked startled at the news that books wouldn't be much help in this subject.

"Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," Professor Trelawney went on, her enormous, gleaming eyes moving from face to nervous face. "It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy," she said suddenly to Neville, who almost toppled off his pouf. "Is your grandmother well?"

"I think so," said Neville tremulously.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you, dear," Professor Trelawney said. I saw Neville gulp. "We will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year," she continued. "The first term will be devoted to reading tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear," she said to Parvati, "beware a red-haired man."

Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her, and edged her chair away from him. I chuckled.

"In the second term," Professor Trelawney went on, "we shall progress to the crystal ball - if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever."

A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Professor Trelawney seemed unaware of it.

"I wonder, dear," she said to Lavender Brown, who was nearest and shrank back in her chair, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?"

Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.

"Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading - it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October."

Lavender's eyes widened and she began to tremble.

"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of _Unfogging the Future_. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear" - she caught Neville by the arm as he made to stand up - "after you've broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I'm rather attached to the pink."

I was partnered with Hermione, who kept muttering under her breath about frauds and loads of rubbish but otherwise did as told.

"So, what you see?" I asked her. She was frowning at my cup and glanced quickly at her book.

"Well, it seems you have four signs: the Falcon - a deadly enemy."

"The exams," I said. Hermione grinned.

"The next one is a club, which means an attack."

"No surprise there," we both remember what happened the past two years. It wasn't a lucky life.

"There's a skull too, which means danger in your path," we shared an incredulous look at that. It happens every time!

"And finally," she gave the cup a turn, "a big black dog, it's called the Grim which means…death." Hermione scowled at my cup. "Your cup either wants to kill you or you have the worse luck ever."

I shrugged, "We are used to it. So let's see yours… um, there's a cross here, means trials and suffering, and…just that." I sighed deeply. "Your cup seems more brighter than mine."

Hermione laughed. "Glad this is all rubbish because if not, well, we're doomed." I agreed with her.

We both heard Harry gave a snort of laughter and looked at him.

Professor Trelawney suddenly swept over and snatched Harry's cup from Ron's hand. Everyone around us went quiet to watch.

Professor Trelawney was staring into the teacup, rotating it counterclockwise.

"The falcon...my dear, you have a deadly enemy."

I raised my eyebrows. That's obvious to everyone.

"But everyone knows that," Hermione voiced what I thought. Trelawney stared at her.

"Well, they do," Hermione said. "Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who."

I stared at her a little surprised. Hermione would never or had spoken to a teacher like that. Oh, dear. Hermione is growing up!

Professor Trelawney didn't answer.

She lowered her huge eyes to Harry's cup gain and continued to turn it.

"The club...an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup..."

"I thought that was a bowler hat," I heard Ron say sheepishly. Wait, was Harry's cup sounding just like mine? Nah, must be my imagination.

"The skull...danger in your path, my dear..."

Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Professor Trelawney, who gave the cup a final turn, gasped, and then screamed. I jumped.

There was another tinkle of breaking china; Neville had smashed his second cup. Professor Trelawney sank into a vacant armchair, her glittering hand at her heart and her eyes closed.

"My dear boy...my poor, dear boy...no...it is kinder not to say... no...don't ask me..."

"What is it, Professor?" Dean Thomas asked at once. Everyone had got to their feet and slowly their crowded around our table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney's chair to get a good look at Harry's cup.

"My dear," Professor Trelawney's huge eyes opened dramatically, "you have the Grim."

I just jinxed it somehow, didn't I?

"The what?" Harry asked.

He was the only one who didn't understand; Dean shrugged at him and Lavender looked puzzled, but nearly everyone else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror.

"The Grim, my dear, the Grim!" Professor Trelawney cried, looking shocked that Harry hadn't understood. "The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boy, it is an omen - the worst omen - of _death_!"

Now that she understood, Lavender clamped her hands to her mouth in horror. Everyone was looking at Harry with pity or fear. What I don't understand is, how is possible that our cups were the _same_?

Hermione stood up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney's chair.

_"I_ don't think it looks like a Grim," she said flatly.

Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione with dislike.

"You'll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future."

Eh, how rude!

"Professor Trelawney!" I ended throwing Hermione's cup. How I didn't notice that Lavender was behind me?

"Didn't your parents teach you to not sneak behind on someone?" I growled, but she ignored me.

"Annie has the Grim, too!" she grabbed my cup and hurried over the teacher. Trelawney looked at my cup and she seemed ready to faint. Hermione rolled her eyes and I groaned. Now everyone was going to think I was going to die.

Seamus Finnigan was tilting his head from side to side.

"They look like Grims if you do this," he said, with his eyes almost closed, "but it looks more like a donkey from here," he said, leaning to the left.

"Thanks Seamus," I muttered sarcastically. If I was correct, the book said that meant madness. Now everyone would say we're crazy.

"When you've all finished deciding whether we're going to die or not!" Harry exploded, taking us all by surprise. Now nobody seemed to want to look at either of us.

"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," Professor Trelawney said in her mistiest voice. "Yes...please pack away your things..."

Silently the class took our teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away our books, and closed our bags. Even Ron was avoiding my and Harry's eyes. Hermione was scowling now at the Professor.

"Until we meet again," Professor Trelawney said faintly, "fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear" - she pointed to Neville - "you'll be late next time, so mind you work extra-hard to catch up."

With that, we climbed the silver ladder and we all set off for Transfiguration.


	11. And the Bad Luck continues

The day continued badly. Even as we took a seat in the back of the classroom, every single one of the students that were on divination still keep glancing at Harry and me. Did they think we were going to drop dead, or what?!

I ignored them and paid more attention to what Professor McGonagall said about the Animagi. It was very interesting the process of how turn into one, and McGonagall mentioned that you don't turn into what you want but what you really are. I was not surprised to see her transform into a tabby cat as I once caught her do the same in a class of third years when I was eleven, watching them like a predator.

I wonder what animal would I turn if I tried it…?

"Really, what has gotten into you all today? Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class." She snapped.

Annoyingly, every head in the class turned to look at Harry and me. Hermione raised her hand.

"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading tea leaves, and -"

"Ah, of course," Professor McGonagall said, suddenly frowning. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?"

I gaped at her.

"Us," Harry motioned to me and himself.

"I see," Professor McGonagall said.

"You said it as if it isn't something new," I couldn't help but mention. To my surprise, one of the corners of the Professor's mouth turned upwards slightly.

"Is because Sybill Trelawney has predicted the death of at least one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them had died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues -"

Professor McGonagall broke off, and we saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney -"

She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You both look in excellent health to me, Potter, Barton, so you will excuse me if I don't let either of you off homework today. I assure you that if you both die, neither of you need hand it in."

I laughed. Didn't knew that McGonagall had humor.

Harry seemed more convinced that it wasn't true, but not everyone thought the same. Ron looked worried and Lavender whispered about Neville's cup.

When the lesson ended, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and I went to the Great Hall for lunch.

Ron looked more possibly gloomier than before.

"Ron," Hermione said, "cheer up. You heard what Professor McGonagall said."

He spooned stew onto his plate and picked up his fork but didn't start.

"Harry, Anne..." Ron said, in a low, serious voice, "neither of you _have_ seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"

"You too?" I mumbled between bites, so he didn't hear. He looked so serious that I shook my head in a no.

"Yeah, I have," Harry said. "I saw one the night I left the Dursley's." Ron dropped his fork. If he still hadn't continued so serious, I would have laughed at the twitching his hand was doing.

"Probably a stray," Hermione said.

"Hermione, if Harry's seen a Grim, that's - that's bad," he said. "My - my uncle Bilius saw one and - and he died twenty-four hours later!"

"Coincidence," Hermione said airily, pouring herself some pumpkin juice.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Ron said, starting to get angry. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!"

Wizards are more superstitious than I imagined.

"There you are, then," Hermione said. "They see the Grim and die of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Harry's still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better kick the bucket, then!"

Ron started mouthing at Hermione not believing what he heard. Hermione ignored this and took out an Arithmancy book.

"I think Divination seems very woolly," she said, searching for her page. "A lot of guesswork, if you ask me."

"There was nothing woolly about the Grims in those cups!" Ron said hotly.

"You didn't seem quite so confident when you were telling Harry it was a sheep," Hermione said coolly.

"Professor Trelawney said you didn't have the right aura! You just don't like being bad at something for a change!"

I winced. _"Idiot."_

Hermione slammed down very hard that book, that it made my pumpkin juice spill all over my robes.

I closed my eyes. _Not shout at the bickering couple. Not shout at the bickering couple. Not shout at the bickering couple._

With that mantra on mind I went to the bathroom, ignoring the high pitched laughs of Parkinson and the stares of the others Gryffindors.

I choose the one with Moaning Myrtle because it was the closest bathroom and nobody would want to enter here.

Myrtle didn't say anything offending to me. In fact, she waved and smiled a little.

Why, you ask? Well, I have this theory. They say people recognize another person that has the same personality as them and are bound to stick together. Myrtle was shy before she died and became annoying. I was shy when I came here. I still don't believe that I almost yelled, practically _demanded_ Hermione to be my best friend. So, I think she understands me in a certain way.

After five minutes of using the Hot-Air charm, I looked at my robe. It was going to have a nasty spot there. Thinking better and not wanting to somehow ridicule myself, I folded my robe on my bag and set off running to the oak doors in the entrance.

It seemed that the day was going to be warm, as nearly everyone had their cloak in their arms or backpacks. I luckily caught up with Neville, whom I saw was having problems with his monster book. Poor Nev, his robe was nearly ripped, and the book still hasn't stop shaking in anger.

"Hey, Neville"

"Hey," he said a little dully and forced.

"Problems?" I would have slapped myself right there. How stupid was my question?

"You think?" he breathed sarcastically, still trying to not let go of the damned book.

"Er – I think you have to stroke the book's spine."

"Are you mad?! What if it does something different?" Wow, never heard Neville snap at anyone before.

He saw my expression and he apologized profusely.

"Don't apologize," I interrupted him. "I think is good for you to let your feelings out once in a while."

We started walking a little behind the group. His monster book was still trembling, and after, apparently, a lot of thinking, Neville bravely stroked the spine and the book began purring.

"You were right! Thanks Annie," he smiled gratefully.

"No problem, Nev." He frowned.

"Why do you call me Nev?"

"Well, weren't you the one who started calling me Annie? I think is fairly enough if I call you like that," I retorted.

"It was bound that you would be called like that," He mumbled.

"But you were the first who did it, so hush."

We arrived to Hagrid's hut and, to our chagrin, we saw the Slytherin lot already there. I noticed that Ron and Hermione were on each side of Harry and were looking away from each other. Harry looked kinda of annoyed and Neville pointed that he was staring at Malfoy. The Slytherin boy was talking animatedly with his apes, Crabbe and Goyle, both of them chortling. Is then that I saw Malfoy rolled his eyes backwards as if was going to swoon that I knew why Harry was annoyed.

Hagrid was already waiting for his class with Fang at his feet.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" Hagrid called impatiently. "Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin' up! Everyone here? Right, follow me!" Hagrid started leading us towards the Forbidden Forest.

I gulped and Neville hyperventilated a little. We both don't have good memories from there from our First year.

We gave a sigh of relief, though, when Hagrid led us around the edge of trees to what looked like a paddock. It was empty, though.

"Everyone gather 'round the fence here!" Hagrid called. "That's it—make sure yeh can see—now, firs' thing yeh'll want ter do is open yer books-"

"How?" called the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Eh?" Hagrid asked.

"How do we open our books?" Malfoy said. I pulled my book out of my bag and started removing the Spellotape the manager used.

"Hasn' - hasn' anyone bin able ter open their books?" Hagrid asked, looking crestfallen.

The class all shook their heads. Neville and I shared a glance. I motioned to him and whispered, "Go on."

A little quivering, Neville raised his hand.

"Mr. Longbottom?" Hagrid asked surprised. Neville flushed a little because all the class had the attention on him.

"You – you stroke the spine."

And in cue, I did that with my book, pretending to not be sure and like if I was believing him, I stroke the spine of _The Monster Book of Monsters _and it fell open and lay quiet on my hands.

Hagrid beamed at us and all the Gryffindors and Slytherins stared at Neville unbelievably.

"Ten points to Mr. Longbottom, as he was tah only one tah foun out how ya open it." Hagrid said happily.

Malfoy was so mad that he hadn't a chance to mess with Hagrid's first class so he shut up.

Hagrid strode away from us into the forest and out of sight.

"God, this place is going to the dogs," Malfoy said loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father'll have a fit when I tell him -"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry said glaring.

"Careful, Potter, there's a dementor behind you -"

"Ooooooh!" Lavender squealed, pointing toward the opposite side of the paddock. Hagrid was leading six of the strangest creatures. They had bodies of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of giant eagles. They even had beaks.

"Gee up, there!" Hagrid yelled, shaking the chains that the creatures were attached to.

Everyone drew back a little.

"Hippogriffs!" Hagrid roared happily, waving a hand at them. "Beau'iful, aren't they?"

I could kinda see what Hagrid meant. Once I got over the first shock of seeing something that was half horse, half bird, I started to appreciate the hippogriffs' gleaming coats, changing smoothly from feather to hair, each of them a different color: stormy gray, bronze, pinkish roan, gleaming chestnut, and inky black.

"So," Hagrid said, rubbing his hands together and beaming around, "if yeh want ter come a bit nearer -"

I stepped a little forward. Harry, Hermione and Ron did the same. And to my surprise, Neville did a little hesitantly but he clung to my side quickly.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, they're proud. Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do."

To the left of me, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were talking.

"Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move," Hagrid was still saying. "It's polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed ter touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from his sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt. Right—who wants ter go first?"

Everyone backed away.

"No one?" Hagrid said, sounding disappointed and pleading at the same time.

"I'll do it," Harry said. I heard both Lavender and Parvati whisper, "Oooh, no, Harry, remember your tea leaves!"

Harry ignored them both and climbed over the fence to Hagrid.

"Good man, Harry!" Hagrid yelled. "Right then—let's see how yeh get on with Buckbeak."

He unchained one of the gray hippogriffs and pulled off its collar.

"Easy, now, Harry," Hagrid said. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink...Hippogriffs don' trust yeh if yeh blink too much..."

I was staring transfixed at the scene folding in front of us without blinking.

"Tha's it," Hagrid said. "Tha's it, Harry...now, bow..."

Harry gave a short bow to the hippogriff named Buckbeak and looked back up. The hippogriff didn't move.

"Ah," Hagrid said. "Right—back away, now, Harry, easy does it-"

A little in front (only like two footsteps) Hermione suddenly grabbed Ron's hand. I smirked. So _I_ was right. Looking very uncomfortable, Ron cleared his throat a little and Hermione let go.

Of course nobody noticed this little exchange.

The hippogriff suddenly bent its scaly front knees and sank into what was an unmistakable bow.

"Well done, Harry!" Hagrid said. "Right—yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!"

Harry slowly made his way to the hippogriff, reached out, and petted it a couple of times. I started clapping with the rest of the class.

"Righ' then, Harry," Hagrid said. "I reckon he might' let yeh ride him!"

Now, _that_ sounds interesting.

"Yeh climb up there, jus' behind the wing joint," Hagrid said, "an' mind yeh don' pull any of his feathers out, he won' like that..."

I watched as Harry started to climb up on Buckbeak. The hippogriff stood up.

"Go on, then!" Hagrid yelled, slapping Buckbeak on the rear. The hippogriff took off in the air, looking beautiful as it flew in the endless blue above us.

Harry circled the paddock once on Buckbeak before touching back down to the ground.

"Good work, Harry!" Hagrid yelled. I cheered with everyone. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

Emboldened by Harry's success, the rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied the Hippogriffs one by one, and soon people were bowing nervously, all over the paddock. Neville ran repeatedly backward from ours, which didn't seem to want to bend its knees.

"Okay Neville, watch me," I said rather confidently but my rational side was thinking a lot of the profanities Darcy said and was throwing them at me.

I looked straight at the Hippogriff and without blinking once, I very slowly started to bow. I was transfixed by the creature's eyes, and it seemed he was in the same situation as me. Before I noticed, we were moving in sync and when I stopped to a point, the Hippogriff already had bowed and started moving towards me. I stroked its beak slowly.

"See my friend there," I muttered nodding towards Neville. "He's not going to hurt you and he's shy every time, just like you. Could you please be friendly to him?" I backed slowly and motioned to Neville to bow. Not wanting to take chances, Neville nearly bowed until his forehead touched the dirt.

The Hippogriff watched him curiously until it started ruffling its wings and bowed too. I could tell the bird was amused at this behavior.

"Neville," I called to the boy whom was looking the ground. "It's alright. He already bowed to you." Said boy sighed in relief and he finally got to stroke his feathers slowly.

And then a high-pitched scream was let out. We jumped in surprise and whirled around just to see Hagrid wrestling Buckbeak away from Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Malfoy lay, curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his robes.

"I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

I rolled my eyes. The stupid could just go to Madam Pomfrey and in three seconds there would be no scar to even be complaining about.

"Yer not dyin'!" Hagrid said, having gone very white. "Someone help me - gotta get him outta here -"

Hermione ran to hold open the gate as Hagrid lifted Malfoy easily. I caught a glimpse of a very large gash on Malfoy's arm that was still letting out blood. And they went to the castle, the Care of Magical Creatures class following shakily. The Slytherins were all shouting about Hagrid.

"They should fire him straight away!" Pansy Parkinson said, crying heavily.

"It was Malfoy's fault!" Dean Thomas snapped. Crabbe and Goyle flexed their muscles threateningly.

We all climbed the stone steps into the deserted entrance hall.

"I'm going to see if he's okay!" Pansy said, and we all watched her run up the marble staircase. The Slytherins, still muttering about Hagrid, headed away in the direction of their dungeon common room

Later, I went to the Great Hall for dinner, but there was no sign of Hagrid.

"They _wouldn't_ fire him, would they?" Hermione asked as I joined them.

"They'd better not," Ron said, who wasn't eating either.

I watched Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table, huddled together and talking.

"Well, you can't say it wasn't an interesting first day back," Ron said. After dinner, I followed the three of them up to the common room to try and do all the homework Professor McGonagall had given us, though we were constantly looking out at the window.

"There's a light on in Hagrid's window," Harry said suddenly.

Ron looked at his watch.

"If we hurried, we could go down and see him. It's still quite early..."

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, and I saw her glance at Harry.

"I'm allowed to walk across the _grounds_," Harry said, noticing Hermione's look. "Sirius Black hasn't got past the dementors yet, has he?"

"Just this time, Mione," I said. "Hagrid need us now."

Hermione didn't argue against that, so we put our things away and headed out of the portrait hole, glad to meet nobody on our way to the front doors, as we weren't entirely sure we were supposed to be out.

The grass was still wet and looked almost black in the twilight. When we reached Hagrid's hut, we knocked, and a voice growled, "C'min."

Hagrid was sitting in his shirtsleeves at his scrubbed wooden table; his boarhound, Fang, had his head in Hagrid's lap. One look told us that Hagrid had been drinking a lot; there was a pewter tankard almost as big as a bucket in front of him, and he seemed to be having difficulty getting us into focus.

" 'Spect it's a record," he said thickly, when he recognized us. "Don' reckon they've ever had a teacher who lasted on'y a day before."

"You haven't been fired, Hagrid!" Hermione gasped.

"Not yet," Hagrid said miserably, taking a huge gulp of whatever was in the tankard. "But 's only a matter o' time, i'n't it, after Malfoy..."

"How is he?" Ron asked as we all sat down. "It wasn't serious, was it?"

"Madam Pomfrey fixed him best she could," Hagrid said dully, "but he's sayin' it's still agony...covered in bandages...moanin'..."

"He must be faking it," I said at once. "The cut wasn't deep and it could have been easily healed with an _Episkey_."

"Trust Malfoy to milk it for all it's worth." Harry angrily said.

"School gov'nors have bin told, o' course," Hagrid said. "They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left hippogriffs fer later...done flobberworms or summat...Jus' thought it'd make a good firs' lesson...'S all my fault..."

"It's all _Malfoy's _fault, Hagrid!" Hermione said.

"We're witnesses," Harry said. "You said hippogriffs attack if you insult them. It's Malfoy's problem that he wasn't listening. We'll tell Dumbledore what really happened."

"Yeah, don't worry, Hagrid, we'll back you up," Ron said.

Tears leaked out of the crinkled corners of Hagrid's bettle-black eyes. He grabbed both Harry and Ron and pulled them into a bone-breaking hug. I flinched at the small cracks coming from both boys.

"I think you've had enough to drink, Hagrid," Hermione said firmly. She took the tankard from the table and went outside to empty it.

"Ar, maybe she's right," Hagrid said, letting go of Harry and Ron, who both staggered away, rubbing their ribs. Hagrid heaved himself out of his chair and followed Hermione unsteadily outside. I looked out the window and saw Hagrid sticking his head in the water barrel.

"What's he done?" Harry asked when he heard the splash.

"Stuck his head in the water barrel," Hermione answered as she came, putting the tankard away.

"I hope he doesn't try to drown himself," I said. Ron seemed to be imagining it because he shook his head and he nodded at my words.

Hagrid came back, his long hair and beard sopping wet, wiping the water out of his eyes.

"Tha's better," he said, shaking his head like a dog and drenching us all. "Listen, it was good of yeh ter come an' see me, I really -"

He suddenly stopped and started at Harry, as if just realizing he was there.

"WHAT D'YEH THINK YOU'RE DOIN' HERE?" he roared. "YEH'RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN' AROUND AFTER DARK, HARRY! AN' YOU THREE! LETTIN' HIM!"

Hagrid went over to Harry and grabbed him by his arm and yanked him through the door.

"C'mon!" Hagrid said, now mad. "I'm takin' yer all back up ter school, an' don' let me catch yeh walkin' down ter see me after dark again. I'm not worth that!"


	12. What do I fear?

To complete his charade, Malfoy didn't appear until late on Thursday morning halfway through our Potions class. He made a very dramatic entrance, swaying as if he confronted a battle.

"How is it, Draco," Pansy asked him. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," Malfoy said, grimacing, but I saw him wink to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Settle down, settle down," Snape said. I snorted inwardly. If we Gryffindors walked in late, we were guaranteed a loss of points and detention, not a simple _settle down_. Maybe not me, as seeing that he didn't hate my guts like everyone else.

Today I sat with the boys, and I noticed Harry and Ron scowl at each other more quickly.

We were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Malfoy set up his cauldron right next between Harry and I, separating me from both boys, so that we were all preparing our ingredients on the same table.

"Sir," Malfoy called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm -"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him," Snape said without looking up.

Ron went brick red.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed at Malfoy.

Malfoy smirked across the table.

I cleared my throat, "I'll do it, I'm almost done." I said, grabbing my knife, pulling his roots toward me, and beginning to carefully cut his roots into equal sized pieces. Snape narrowed his eyes and seemed to want to say something but Malfoy held a hand and Snape returned to torment the others. I returned to carefully cutting up the roots, being sure not to mess up or else.

"You know, Barton," I could hear the smirk in his voice, but I didn't look up, nearly done with cutting up his roots. "You look like a house-wife making dinner for her husband. Whose it for, Potter? Or maybe Longbottom?" How creative Malfoy is! Out of the corner of my eye I saw Harry glaring at Malfoy, his cheeks tinted pink.

"Keep talking, Malfoy," only two more to cut. "I have heard worse this summer, and, believe me, none of them I can say in public." Malfoy growled in frustration but suddenly smirked.

"Sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned," he said, trying to contain his laughter.

"Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig," Snape said, giving Harry the look of loathing he always reserved just for him.

Harry took Malfoy's shrivelfig and skinned it as fast as he could before he flung it back across the table at Malfoy without speaking. Malfoy was smirking more broadly than ever.

"Seen your pal Hagrid lately?" he asked us quietly.

"None of your business," Ron said jerkily, without looking up.

"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," Malfoy said in a tone of mock sorrow. "Father's not very happy about my injury -"

"Keep talking, Malfoy, and I'll give you a real injury," Ron snarled.

"- he's complained to the school governors. _And_ to the Ministry of Magic. Father's got a lot of influence, you know. And a lasting injury like this" - he gave a huge, fake sigh - "who knows if my arm'll ever be the same again?"

I picked my knife with the sudden interest of stab it on his arm. Malfoy eyed me warily, noticing how I was holding the possibly soon-to-be murder weapon and looked away.

"So that's why you're putting it on," Harry said. "To try to get Hagrid fired."

"Well," Malfoy said, whispering, "_partly_, Potter. But there are other benefits too. Weasley, slice my caterpillars for me."

I heard Snape saying, "Orange, Longbottom. Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?"

Neville was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

"Please, sir," Hermione said, "please, I could help Neville put it right -"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger," Snape said coldly, and Hermione went as pink as Neville. "Longbottom, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Snape moved away, leaving Neville breathless with fear.

"Help me!" he moaned to Hermione.

"Hey, Harry," Seamus Finnigan said, leaning over to borrow Harry's brass scales, "have you heard? _Daily Prophet_ this morning - they reckon Sirius Black's been sighted."

"Where?" Harry and Ron asked quickly. I looked up alarmed. Black was nearby?

"Dufftown," Seamus said, looking excited. "It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she phoned the telephone hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Not too far from here...," Ron said, looking significantly at Harry. And he looked to Draco sharply, "What, Malfoy? Need something else skinned?"

I jumped. I didn't notice that Malfoy was listening too.

But Malfoy's eyes were shining malevolently, and they were fixed on both Harry and I. He leaned closer to me, partly across the table. I scooted away from him, looking confused.

"Thinking of trying to catch Black single-handed, Potter?"

"Yeah, that's right," Harry said.

"Of course, if it was me," Malfoy said, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out here looking for him." I rolled my eyes.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?" Ron asked roughly.

"Don't either of you _know_?" Malfoy breathed, his pale eyes narrowing between Harry and I.

"Know what?" I asked warily.

Malfoy let out a low, sneering laugh.

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your necks," he said. "Want to leave it to the dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down _myself_." And he looked purposely at me. I frowned.

_"What are you talking about?"_ Harry said angrily, but at that moment Snape called, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now; this potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Longbottom's..."

Crabbe and Goyle laughed openly, watching Neville sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly. Hermione was muttering instructions to him out of the corner of her mouth, so that Snape wouldn't see. Harry, Ron, and I packed away out unused ingredients and went to wash our wands and ladles in the stone basin in the corner.

"What did Malfoy mean?" Harry muttered to Ron and I as he stuck his hands under the icy jet that poured from the gargoyle's mouth. "Why would I want revenge on Black? Or you, Annie? He hasn't done anything to us - yet."

"He's making it up," Ron said savagely. "He's trying to make you both do something stupid..."

But I still had to wonder, why Malfoy looked more purposely at me if Black was Harry's problem?

It was the end of the lesson when Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather 'round," Snape said, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don't doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned."

I begged that he caught Hermione's instructions right.

The Slytherins looked excited as we Gryffindors waited fearfully by the obvious fail of the potion. I started nibbling on my thumb nervously. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon into Neville's potion, which was now green. He tricked a few drops down Trevor's throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's palm.

I sighed in relief as the Gryffindors broke in applause.

Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," Snape said. What?! "I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed."

We four climbed the steps to the entrance hall. Ron was fuming about the points we lost hile I was still telling him that it was better that than to watch Trevor die.

"Five points from Gryffindor," he still fumed. "Because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Hermione? You should've said Neville did it all by himself!"

Hermione was utterly quiet. I looked behind us and saw – nothing. Ron whirled around in his spot, trying to see her.

"Where is she?" we were at the top of the steps as our classmates passed us to the Great Hall for lunch.

"She was right behind me," I muttered confused pointing behind me and then to in front me. She couldn't have surpassed us. Not with all the books she carries around.

Malfoy passed us with his cronies and smirked at Harry but he ignored him.

"There she is," Harry motioned to the bottom of the stairs. Hermione was panting while she hurried up the stairs, one hand clutching her bag, the other trying to tuck something down the front of her robes. I barely caught the glimpse of something gold.

"How did you do that?" Ron asked.

"What?" Hermione asked, joining us.

"One minute you were right behind us, the next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" Hermione said, looking slightly confused. "Oh - I had to go back for something. Oh no -"

A seam had split on Hermione's bag. Good Lord, how many books did she have in there?

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Ron asked her.

"You know how many subjects I'm taking," Hermione said breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?"

"But -" Ron was turning over the books she had handed him, looking at the covers. "You haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon."

"Oh yes," Hermione said vaguely, but she packed all the books back into her bag just the same. "I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving," she added, and she marched off toward the Great Hall.

"D'you get the feeling Hermione's not telling us something?" Ron asked Harry and me. We shrugged.

Professor Lupin hadn't arrived yet at his first class and so everyone took advantage to pull out their quills, parchments, books and etc. Seven minutes later, Lupin finally entered.

"Good afternoon," he said. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

I didn't pull out anything, as it was a habit of doing it as the Professor entered. However, I was curious as to what we were going to see today.

"Right then," Professor Lupin said, when we were all ready. "If you'd follow me." He lead us out of the room.

He led us along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing we saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

Peeves didn't look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin," Peeves sang. "Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin -"

Huh, that's weird. Peeves usually showed respect to the teachers.

Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to our surprise, he was still smiling.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves," he said pleasantly. "Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms." Peeves ignored what Lupin said and blew a loud, wet raspberry. Professor Lupin gave a sigh and pulled out his wand.

"This is a useful little spell," he told the class over his shoulder. "Please watch closely.

He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, _"Waddiwasi!"_ and pointed it at Peeves.

With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves's left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

"Cool, sir!" Dean Thomas said in amazement.

"Thank you, Dean," Professor Lupin said, putting his wand away again. "Shall we proceed?"

We set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led us down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door.

"Inside, please," Professor Lupin said, opening it and standing back.

The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this."

He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

I glared at him. He didn't only bully Neville, now he put him on shame in front of another teacher.

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

I glanced at Lupin. I had the feeling he was going to be better teacher than we thought.

Snape's lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap.

"Now, then," Professor Lupin said, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.

"Nothing to worry about," Professor Lupin said calmly because a few people had jumped backward in alarm. "There's a boggart in there."

I looked at it now warily. If I read correctly, those things showed your worst fear.

I wasn't the only one. Neville looked at the Professor in utter horror; Seamus eyed the rattling door apprehensively; Parvati and Lavender now hold hands like trying to keep each other in place; the general expression around was to drew back like three steps.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," Professor Lupin said. "Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks - I've even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. _This_ one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice.

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what _is_ a boggart?"

Hermione put her hand up.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said glancing at the thing containing said creature. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Lupin said. Hermione went a bit pink. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Hermione was standing on her toes, hand in the air, ready to answer the question, but Harry answered, "Er—because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely," Lupin said. Hermione put her hand down, looking disappointed. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake—tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart off is _laughter_. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice that charm without wands first. After me, please..._Riddikulus_!"

"_Riddikulus_!" we all repeated.

"Good," Lupin said. "Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for the gallows.

"Right, Neville," Professor Lupin said. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

Neville mouthed something but no sound came.

"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry," Professor Lupin said cheerfully.

Neville looked around and his eyes found mine. He looked so begging at me that I almost felt the fear it radiated from him.

I encouraged him to say it by smiling at him.

And almost barely a whisper, he said, "Professor Snape."

I didn't blame him, honestly. Since our First year it seemed that Snape had breathed down on Neville's neck and that made him be insecure of himself.

Around me, almost everyone laughed. Neville started grinning nervously, but Professor Lupin nodded thoughtful at this answer.

"Yes… frightens all...hmmm...Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er - yes," Neville said nervously. "But - I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."

So, it wasn't only Snape?

"No, no, you misunderstand me," Professor Lupin smiled. "I wonder, could you tell me what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Looking startled, Neville said, "Well...always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress...green, normally...and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

"And a handbag?" Professor Lupin prompted.

"A big red one," Neville said.

"Right then," Professor Lupin said. "Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," Neville said uncertainly, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape," Lupin said. "And you will raise your wand - thus - and cry _'Riddikulus'_- and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag."

Everyone laughed at the image. I mean, Snape is so damn serious that seeing him like that would be like if the end of the world was nearby.

_Mental note: hope that I just didn't jinx it._

"If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," Professor Lupin said. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical..."

I had frowned all day that I'm sure my face is going to stay like that. The thing that scares me most… I really never had thought of it. I had the common little fears like spiders, blood (panic to it), not even the memory of Riddle's diary made me tremble. I had a lot of nightmares, but from it I always had ignored the _feeling_. It made me feel weak, and being weak made me more prone to the insults in the Orphanage, and the insults lead to tears, and tears always lead to the ache of loneliness on my heart. It's a never ending cycle.

I'm only going to think on Darcy in her period moods. Yes, it's better that way.

"Everyone ready?" Professor Lupin asked.

My stomach dropped in fear, but I already set my mind on it. Don't know how, but I ended up somewhere near the front.

"Everyone ready?" Professor Lupin asked. " Neville, we're going to back away. Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward...Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot-"

Neville pushed up the sleeves of his robes and held his wand at the ready.

"On the count of three, Neville," Professor Lupin said, pointing his wand at the wardrobe. "One—two—three—_now_!"

Professor Lupin sent a jet of sparks out of his wand to the wardrobe, which burst open. Professor Snape stepped out of the wardrobe, coming into the room which he had just previously left. Boggart Snape glared at Neville and started coming at him, reaching into his robes. Neville started backing up, gaping at Snape.

"_R—r—riddikulus!_" Neville squeaked. There was a loud cracking noise and Professor Snape stumbled backwards; he was wearing a long, green, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag. I started laughing.

the boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, "Parvati! Forward!"

Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he stood was a blood-stained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising -

_"Riddikulus!"_ Parvati cried.

A bandage unraveled at the mummy's feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off.

"Seamus!" Professor Lupin roared.

Seamus darted past Parvati.

I gulped, it was my time next.

_Crack!_ Where the mummy had been was a woman with floor-length black hair and a skeletal, green-tinged face - a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek that made my blood run cold and freeze in my veins –

I remembered the high cold pitched laugh from the train. The way that woman chanted the word _Crucio_ like if it was a lullaby yet it caused so much pain –

_"Riddikulus!"_ Seamus shouted.

The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone.

"Anya!" now or never. I scurried forward slowly, very _very _slowly.

_Crack! _The banshee disappeared, and instead of Mrs. Darcy shouting at me for being a freak like I imagined, the form of a person lay on the floor.

I could heard the others murmuring behind me but I didn't pay attention. The person had very ragged clothes and by the way its hair was a long curly mess, I could tell it was a woman. I took a step closer.

"Why…?" she raised her head slowly. Hazel met cold raging black. It was then late that I understood who she was when I locked eyes with her.

I raised my wand quickly. If my theory was correct, I didn't want to hear it yell the vision's words from the very woman in person.

"WHY CANT YOU JUST DRO –"

"_Riddikulus!_" I yelled. The woman exploded and instead a monkey appeared dancing with an umbrella and started dancing in circles while singing _Popeye the sailor man._

Everyone began laughing at the song, and I went to the very back, not looking at Hermione's worried expression, Ron's bewildered face or Harry's confusion. Even Lupin, I noticed, was a little shocked, but he cleared his throat and the next student stepped forward.

What it _did_ worry me was Neville's reaction. He was between a mixture of shock and fear, and had turned to a ghostly white.

The boggart changed from shape to shape. The diary turned into a rat, which chased after its tail like a dog. _Crack!_ The rat turned into a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed. _Crack!_ The snake became a single, bloody eyeball.

"It's confused!" Professor Lupin said. "We're getting there! Dean!"

Dean hurried forward. The eyeball turned into a severed hand, which flipped over and started to scurry along the floor, just like a crab.

"_Riddikulus!_" Dean shouted. There was a snap sound and the hand was caught in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ron, you next!" Lupin said.

Ron leapt forward.

_Crack!_

Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly. I shivered, goosebumps rushed up my arms. For a moment, I thought Ron had frozen. Then -

_"Riddikulus!"_ Ron bellowed, and the spider's legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Lavender squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Harry's feet. Harry raised his wand, but Professor Lupin intervened.

"Here!" he said suddenly, hurrying forward.

_Crack!_ The boggart vanished from a spider to an orb hanging in mid-air.

"_Riddikulus!_" Professor Lupin said. _Crack!_ The boggart changed into a cockroach.

"Forward, Neville, and finish him off!" Professor Lupin said. Neville, already recovered stepped forward. _Crack_! Snape was back.

_"Riddikulus!"_ he shouted determined, and we had a split second's view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" Professor Lupin cried as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone...Let me see... five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the boggart - ten for Neville because he did it twice...and five each to Hermione and Harry."

"But I didn't do anything," Harry argued.

"You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry," Professor Lupin said. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me...to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Talking excitedly, the class left the staffroom. I didn't share the feeling. I just saw the woman I heard yell on the train, and I still don't get who she is, or what exactly means!

Hermione started to approach me, probably to ask me about what my boggart meant. But I quickly rushed away from her, Ron and Harry.

Like an hour later, I found myself in Myrtle's bathroom, crying my eyes out with no meaning at all.

All Myrtle did was stare at me and only said this;

"Don't worry, you get used to it."


	13. Moods

Hear, hear, Defense Against the Dark Arts is the new favorite subject for all the Hogwarts students.

Of course, only Malfoy and the Slytherins made horrid comments about Professor Lupin, but that wasn't new to anyone.

He showed us what Red Caps are, nasty little goblin-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed like the dungeons. From Red Caps we moved on to kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looks like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

I somehow didn't understand the last one, but who cares? The class was far more interesting with Lupin and we finally were learning something.

Bad thing was that Snape heard what Neville dressed his boggart and was more particularly nasty towards him these days. The sole mention of the class or Lupin earned us more work and lost us points. Now the sneer seemed permanent on his face.

Divination was more of a hobby than a class. In one of the trips _St. Louise's_ made to a library, I started having a certain interest for the word itself and investigated it. Not to mention I gained a lot of superstitious habits. Like when I saw a bunny in one of the books, I promptly closed the book and didn't open it. Trelawney asked me why I wasn't working and blushing like mad, I explained that bunnies were bad omen and, if saw, then try to stay away from one a full hour, or else.

Harry and Ron sniggered at this while Hermione had an incredulous look on her face. What it shut them up was when Trelawney gave me fifteen points for an incredible description and wise action on how to react as to what the "Inner Eye" commands. That lessened the tears she always gains when she spots me or Harry, and I quote, "There's still hope for a tomorrow with you."

Lavender and Parvati were nagging me to teach them the wise actions of the "Inner Eye" that day, and I ended in Myrtle's bathroom again.

Nobody really liked Care of Magical Creatures, which, after the action-packed first class, had become extremely dull. Hagrid seemed to have lost his confidence. We were now spending lesson after lesson learning how to look after flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.

"Why would anyone _bother_ looking after them?" Ron said, after yet another hour of poking shredded lettuce down the flobberworms' slimy throats.

With all that said, I think it explains as to why I spent more my time doing my homework or just standing and talking with Myrtle in her bathroom.

I dared to ask her if my boggart meant something and she only smiled widely and said that I was always welcome to share her toilet with me.

That didn't improve my mood at all.

And it worsened at the beginning of October.

Everyone was talking animatedly and making plans when Harry returned from his Quidditch training.

"What's happened?" he asked, noticing my sour mood. I pointed to the battered old bulletin board.

"First Hogsmeade weekend," Ron said. "End of October. Halloween."

Harry's face turned sour, too.

"Excellent," Fred said, who had followed Harry in through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."

Harry sat between me and Ron, Hermione on my left side. She looked at our sour expressions and slowly let her quill on her book.

"Harry, Annie, I'm sure you'll both be able to go next time," she said. "They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already."

Oh, yes. With the woman still in mind, I forgot the Sirius Black problem.

"Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," Ron said. "Ask McGonagall if you can both go this time. The next one might not be for ages -"

_"Ron!"_ Hermione said. "Harry and Annie are supposed to stay _in school_ -"

"They can't be the only third years left behind," Ron said. "Ask McGonagall, go on, Harry, Anne-"

"Yeah, I think I will," Harry glanced at me. "What do you say?"

I sighed, "I am going to think about it."

Hermione was going to argue but Crookshanks leaped lightly on her lap. My eyes widened, and I scooted away from them, my head almost closer at Harry's chest. The cat had a dead spider on his mouth!

"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" Ron asked, scowling.

"Clever Crookshanks, did you catch that all by yourself?" Hermione cooed.

Crookshanks slowly chewed up the spider, his yellow eyes fixed insolently on Ron.

"Just keep him over there, that's all," Ron said irritably, turning back to his star chart. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my bag."

Harry yawned, but continued doing his Divination homework. It wasn't difficult, so I did it during lunch.

"You can copy mine, if you like." Ron pushed his star chart towards Harry. Hermione frowned.

All of a sudden, Crookshanks pounced on Ron.

"OY!" he yelled, grabbing his bag from Crookshanks claws. "GET OFF, YOU STUPID ANIMAL!"

Crookshanks still clung to the bag, despite Ron trying to shake him off.

"Ron, don't hurt him!" Hermione squealed; the whole common room was watching; Ron whirled the bag around, Crookshanks still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top -

"CATCH THAT CAT!" Ron yelled as Crookshanks freed himself from the remnants of the bag, sprang over the table, and chased after the terrified Scabbers.

George made a lung for Crookshanks but missed; Scabbers streaked through twenty pairs of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Crookshanks skidded to a half, crouched low on his bandy legs, and started making furious swipes beneath it with his front paw.

Ron and Hermione hurried over; Hermione grabbed Crookshanks around the middle and heaved him away; Ron threw himself onto his stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.

"Look at him!" he said furiously to Hermione, dangling Scabbers in front of her. "He's skin and bone! You keep that cat away from him!"

"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" Hermione said, her voice shaking. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"

"There's something funny about that animal!" Ron said, who was trying to persuade a frantically wiggling Scabbers back into his pocket. "It heard me say that Scabbers was in my bag!"

If you said it that way, it logically seemed true.

"Oh, what rubbish," Hermione said impatiently. "Crookshanks could _smell_ him, Ron, how else d'you think -"

"That cat's got it in for Scabbers!" Ron said, ignoring the people around him, who were staring to giggle. "And Scabbers was here first, _and_ he's ill!"

Ron marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

Next day was worst. Ron was angry at Hermione because of the stupid rat. He didn't talk to her through all Herbology. I luckily was put with Neville so I hadn't had to endure their bickering for the time being. After class was over, we headed up to the castle for Transfiguration. When we arrived Lavender was crying there. Parvati put a comforting arm and told something To Seamus and Dean, whom asked why she was crying.

"What's happening?" Neville whispered as we saw both boys turning somehow grim.

"Dunno," I whispered back.

"What's the matter, Lavender?" Hermione asked anxiously as she, Harry and Ron joined us.

"She got a letter from home this morning," Parvati whispered. "It's her rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."

I always said bunnies were bad omen. But someone listened to me? Nooo.

"Oh," Hermione said, "I'm sorry, Lavender."

"I should have known!" Lavender said tragically. "You know what day it is?"

"Er -"

"The sixteenth of October! 'That thing you're dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? She was right, she was right!"

The whole class was gathered around Lavender now. Seamus shook his head seriously. Hermione hesitated; then she said, "You - you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?"

"Well, not necessarily by a _fox_," Lavender said, looking up at Hermione with streaming eyes, "but I was _obviously_ dreading him dying, wasn't I?"

"Oh," Hermione said. She paused again. Then -

"Was Binky an _old_ rabbit?"

"N - no!" Lavender said. "H - he was only a baby!"

Parvati tightened her arm around Lavender's shoulders.

"But then, why would you dread him dying?" Hermione asked.

I sighed. I tugged Neville's sleeve. "Come on, we're late."

We took a seat near the front. When the class came in, Ron and Hermione looked like they had had another fight. They sat on either ends of the table, with Harry the middle. I felt guilty for leaving him there alone an in the middle when they fight, but I already had more angsty problems on my own.

Before we left, McGonagall called us.

"One moment, please! As you're all in my House, you should hand Hogsmeade permission forms to me before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget!"

I sighed. I already had informed Harry that I wasn't going to ask, so Ron took it on me saying that I was being stubborn like Hermione.

Neville put up his hand.

"Please, Professor, I - I think I've lost -"

"Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Longbottom," Professor McGonagall said. "She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that's all, you may leave."

I saw Harry head to Professor McGonagall nervously. I waited outside the door with Hermione and saw Harry's sad face. Ron started saying a lot of names to McGonagall and Hermione became annoyed. These two are worst of what I thought.

We had to endure all the happy talk about what places to go.

"There's always the feast," Ron said, in an effort to cheer Harry and me up. "You know, the Halloween feast, in the evening."

"Yeah," Harry said gloomily as I laid my head on the table, "great."

On Halloween morning, Harry and I awoke with the rest and went down to breakfast, feeling thoroughly depressed, though doing our best to act normally.

"We'll bring you both lots of sweets back from Honeydukes," Hermione said, looking desperately sorry for us.

"Yeah, loads," Ron said. He and Hermione had finally stopped their bickering for the Cat and Rat thing, being more concerned for us.

"Don't worry about us," Harry and I said, in what we hoped was an offhand tone, "We'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."

We accompanied them to the entrance hall, where Filch, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.

Malfoy said something but I ignored him, too drowned on my misery.

We went up to the Gryffindor Tower and found a lot of older students and a few first years, between them Colin Creevey. Don't know if you remember him, but he's a huge Harry Potter fan, and, unknown to Harry, there's a club of him around.

Trying to evade Creevey, Harry took my hand and turned around right back to the painting. The Fat Lady grumped in annoyance.

In our way we met with Filch, whom looked moody enough to kick us out of the corridor.

"What are you two doing?" Filch snarled suspiciously.

"Nothing," Harry said truthfully.

"Nothing!" Filch spat, his jowls quivering unpleasantly. "A likely story! Sneaking around on your own - why aren't you two in Hogsmeade buying Stick Pellets and Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms like the rest of your nasty little friends? Did ya need time to snog by yourselves? I've seen you two hanging out enough to think you'd be together!"

Blushing furiously, Harry quickly let go of my hand.

"We weren't doing anything, Mr. Filch and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't pry into our private lives." I coldly said. Filch narrowed his eyes on the two of us.

"Get back to your common room where you both belong!" He snapped, and he stood glaring until Harry and I had passed out of sight.

But we didn't have the feeling to return to the common room.

We continued walking in an alone corridor not knowing where to exactly go.

"Harry, Anya?" we both doubled back and saw Professor Lupin looking around his office door.

"What are you two doing?" Lupin asked in a more nicer way than Filch. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Hogsmeade," replied Harry in a casual voice.

"Ah," Lupin said. He considered the two of us for a moment. "Why don't you both come in? I've just taken delivery of a grindylow for our next lesson." I frowned.

"A what?" we asked as we followed Lupin into his office.

In the corner stood a big tank of water with an ugly green creature with little horns. It was doing faces at us as he pressed its face on the glass.

"Water demon," Lupin said, surveying the grindylow thoughtfully. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You both notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."

The grindylow bared its green teeth and then buried itself in a tangle of weeds in a corner.

"Cup of tea?" Lupin asked, looking around for his kettle. "I was just thinking of making one."

"All right," Harry and I said awkwardly.

Lupin tapped the kettle with his wand and a blast of steam issued suddenly from the spout.

"Sit down," Lupin said, taking the lid off a dusty tin. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid - but I daresay you've both had enough of tea leaves?"

Lupin's eyes were twinkling in humor.

"How did you know about that?" Harry asked.

"Professor McGonagall told me," Lupin said, passing Harry and I each a chipped mug of tea. "Neither of you is worried, are you?"

"No," we said. "We're used to it." I added.

I took a sip of tea. We were quiet.

Awkward much?

"Anything worry either of you, Harry, Anya?"

"No," "A lot," we both said at the same time. Harry looked at me and sighed.

"Yes." He put his tea down on Lupin's desk. "You know the day we fought the boggart?"

"Yes," Lupin said slowly.

"Why didn't you let me fight it?" Harry asked abruptly. Lupin raised his eyebrows.

"I would have thought that was obvious, Harry," he said, sounding surprised. I looked at my tea.

"Why?" Harry asked again.

"You thought the boggart was going to take the shape of Voldemort," I said, more like stated, not questioned.

Lupin raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised that I called Voldemort by his name. I was not going to fear him, not when we already had faced him two times.

"Yes, I thought that," he frowned. "Clearly, I was wrong. But I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staffroom. I imagined that people would panic."

"I didn't think of Voldemort," Harry said honestly. "I - I remembered those dementors."

Oh.

"I see," Lupin said thoughtfully. "Well, well...I'm impressed." He smiled slightly at the look of surprise on my and Harry's faces. "That suggests that what you fear most of all is - fear. Very wise, Harry."

That explains why he fears them.

Harry drank more tea.

"So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the boggart?" Lupin asked Harry.

"Well...yes," he said a little more cheery. "Professor Lupin, you know the dementors -"

A knock on the door interrupted him.

"Come in," Lupin called.

The door opened, and in came Snape. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped narrowing his eyes at Harry. He then looked at me and a glint of faint surprise shone in his eyes but it quickly disappeared.

"Ah, Severus," Lupin said, smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Snape set down the smoking goblet, his eyes wandering between the three of us.

"I was just showing Harry and Anya my grindylow," Lupin said pleasantly, pointing at the tank.

"Fascinating," Snape said, without looking at it. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will," Lupin said.

"I made an entire cauldronful," Snape continued. I stared at him. Snape looked like if he was itching to say something. "If you need more."

"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus."

"Not at all," Snape said, backing without looking away from us.

Harry and I looked curiously at the goblet. Lupin smiled.

"Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me," he said. "I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." He picked up the goblet and sniffed it. "Pity sugar makes it useless," he added, taking a sip and shuddering.

"Why -" Harry began as I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. Lupin looked up at us and answered Harry's unfinished question.

"I've been feeling a bit off-color," he said. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it."

Professor Lupin took another sip.

"Professor Snape's very interested in the Dart Arts," Harry blurted out.

"Really?" Lupin said, looking only mildly interested as he took another gulp of potion.

"Some people reckon -" Harry hesitated, "some people reckon he'd do anything to get the Defense Against the Dart Arts job.

I looked at Harry. Did he assume that Snape was going to poison Lupin in front of us?

Lupin drained the goblet and pulled a face.

"Disgusting," he said. "Well, Harry, Anya, I'd better get back to work. I'll see you both at the feast later."

Harry muttered something but I was looking at the goblet in the desk. It was still smoking.

* * *

A shower of colored sweets fell on Harry's lap. The contrary to the sweets Ron bought him, Hermione bought me a lot of Chocolate types like Chocolate frogs, Chocolate balls (Christmas chocolate. You open them and a surprise appears on it) and Chocolate X (they explode in your mouth).

"Here you go," Ron said. "We got as much as we could carry."

"Thanks," Harry said as he picked up a pack of tiny black Pepper Imps. "What's Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?"

Everywhere. Dervish and Banges, the wizarding equipment shop. Zonko's Zoke Shop, into the Three Broomsticks for foaming mugs of hot butterbeer, and more many places they could mention.

"The post office, Harry! About two hundred owls, all sitting on shelves, all color-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!"

"Honeydukes has got a new kind of fudge; they were giving out free samples, there's a bit, look Annie -"

"We _think_ we saw an ogre, honestly, they get all sorts at the Three Broomsticks -"

"Wish we could have brought you both some butterbeer, really warms you up -"

"What did you two do?" Hermione asked, looking anxious. "Did either of you get any work done?"

"No," I admitted. Harry took a sweet.

"Lupin made us a cup of tea in his office. And then Snape came in..."

Harry told them all about the goblet. Ron's mouth fell open.

_"Lupin drank it?" _he gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Professor Snape wouldn't!" Hermione gasped.

"Not in front of us at least," I said.

"Yeah, maybe," Harry mumbled. Hermione checked her wrist watch.

"We'd better go down, you know, the feast'll be starting in five minutes..." We hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd.

The Great Hall had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats, and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

The food was utterly delicious. It managed to overcame my sadness of not going to Hogsmeade. And it got better when the ghost appeared from the walls, especially when Peeves came from the roof and landed in our food singing 'This is Halloween'.

Harry was the same because when Malfoy shouted, "The dementors send their love, Potter!" he was still smiling.

I don't think our good mood could be spoiled by anything.

followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to Gryffindor Tower, but when we reached the corridor that ended with the portrait of the Fat Lady, we found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" asked Seamus behind us.

"Probably Neville's forgotten the password again," Ron sighed.

"Hey!" Neville exclaimed beside me.

"Oh, you're there," Ron smiled apologetically. I rolled my eyes.

"Can you see anything?" I asked Neville, being more tall than me. Now I curse my stature. He shook his head.

"There're too many people."

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password - excuse me, I'm Head Boy -"

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. We heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tiptoe.

Making her way from the front, Ginny appeared slightly panting.

"Ginny, what's go –"

"The Fat Lady! She's gone!"

"WHAT!?"

We finally could see what she meant. Her portrait had been torn and ripped to pieces; marks of claws were seen to what it was left.

"Serves her right. She was a terrible singer,"

"It's not funny, Ron!" Hermione bit back.

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore was there, sweeping toward the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through. He took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying toward him.

"We need to find her," We heard Dumbledore say. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" a cackling voice said.

Peeves was bobbing above us looking delighted at the sight of wreckage and worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore said calmly, and Peeves's grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing," he added unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," Peeves said, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see," Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

Nothing could ruin my mood, huh?


	14. Sleepover at the Great Hall

Panic. That was the first thing the students felt.

"Professors, secure the castle. The rest of you to the Great Hall," Dumbledore commanded seriously as the whispers became sudden yells of disbelief.

Once already there, ten minutes later we were joined by Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins, all of them confused, even grumpy.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Mr. Dumbledore explained as Professor McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

Just as he was about to leave, he turned to us and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."

He waved his wand and all the tables flew to the walls. Another wave and purple sleeping bags were on the floor for each student.

"Sleep well," and with that Dumbledore went to the door.

The moment he closed it, the Hall burst into whispers and yells as the Gryffindors told everyone what exactly happened.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" Percy shouted. "Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"C'mon," Ron said to Harry, Hermione, and me, each of us carrying a sleeping bag into a corner. I ended between Harry and Hermione, Ron on her other side.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," Ron said.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," Hermione said as she climbed into her sleeping bag. "The one night we weren't in the tower..."

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," Ron said. "Didn't realize it was Halloween. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

I didn't say anything. Hermione just gave me a new thought. _The one night we weren't in the tower..._ nearly all the students went to Hogsmeade, the castle would be almost lonely. Does this mean that Black planned it? He was going to kill Harry without someone noticing?

The students were doing wild theories as to how did he got in. A few feet away a Ravenclaw said that he apparated. A Hufflepuff yelled at one of his friends that Black disguised himself as a student, or even a teacher. Dean suggested he could have flown in.

The more they talked, the more crazier it became.

"Honestly, are Annie and I the _only_ people who've ever bothered to read _Hogwarts, A History_?" Hermione said crossly to Harry and Ron.

"Probably. I only read it because you made me to. And I seriously wanted to sleep that time," I said. Somehow, my comment managed a small chuckle from Harry, whom had been utterly quiet since the painting.

Ron sniggered.

"Why?"

"Because the castle's protected by more than _walls_, you know," Hermione said. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered..."

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The candles all went out at once.

The only light I could see was the eerie faint mist from the ghosts and the starry night in the ceiling.

No one had stopped whispering and Percy came once or twice to shut them up with no avail. Every hour a teacher verified the silence in the Hall. It was three in the morning already when everyone was already asleep that Dumbledore came.

Percy was a short way away from us and I quickly closed my eyes and started breathing heavily. I always did this to evade Darcy at night jobs.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" Percy asked in a whisper.

"No," Dumbledore replied. "All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr. Filch restore her."

I heard the door of the hall creak open again, and more footsteps.

"Headmaster?" It was Snape. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either."

"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched..."

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" Snape asked.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before - ah - the start of term?" Snape asked warily. I think he didn't want Percy listen to this.

"I do, Severus," Dumbledore said, and there was something like warning in his voice.

"It seems - almost impossible - that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed -"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," Dumbledore said, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply. "I must go down to the dementors," Dumbledore said. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" Percy said.

"Oh yes," Dumbledore said coldly. "But I'm afraid no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster."

Silence. I heard soft steps that faded as they walked away.

I opened my eyes. The others too listened that.

_"What was all that about?"_ Ron mouthed.

Hermione shook her head and mouthed back, _"I'm not sure."_

Harry didn't look away from the ceiling.

Another hour passed, Hermione and Ron were asleep. I knew because Hermione was breathing heavily and Ron was snoring quite loudly from where he was.

I couldn't sleep at all. Every little sound made me open my eyes, and Ron didn't help at all. I turned to my right side. Harry was still staring at the ceiling. Had he even closed his eyes once?

"You're still awake?"

He nodded. "Can't sleep. You?"

"Same."

Silence.

"Are you scared?" I looked at him. Harry looked so vulnerable this time. Why did he ask _me_? The real question here was if he was scared.

"Out of my socks," I mumbled truthfully. "Aren't you?"

"I'm more worried if he hurts someone because –" he stopped. _Because of me._

I reached for his hand. I could say he was surprised at this by how his eyes widened in confusion. But he slowly intertwined his fingers with mine.

"You're not alone in this, you know," I softly muttered. "I' not going to let him get near you."

He squeezed my hand, and before we knew it, we both fell asleep.

* * *

_Third POV_

Hermione woke up with everyone else exactly at seven in the morning. The buzz from yesterday arose quickly. She sighed. Why these things only happened to Harry?

From her friends, she was the only one awake. Ron was snuggling deeply into his sleeping bag, muttering incoherent words and sometimes names of candies they saw in Hogsmeade.

Rolling her eyes, she looked to her other side. And what she saw leaved her utterly surprised.

Quickly, she started shaking Ron awake. He shrugged her hand and snuggled deeper.

"Ron, get up," she whispered.

"Fiv' more minutes, Mione," he mumbled, still mostly asleep, and not very coherent. She would have chuckled at the sight, but she really wanted him to see this.

So Hermione did what she thought was necessary.

She pulled from his ear.

Rather hard.

"Ronald Weasley, get up right on this moment!"

Ron groaned and looked confused around him.

"Bloody hell," he said. "That was a –"

But he didn't finish as Hermione put a hand on his mouth. He frowned at her and planned to yell at her as to what she was doing. But Hermione pointed behind her and Ron frowned even more confused as to why did she do that.

The answer came more quickly as he looked and he had to bite his cheek to prevent the laughter he felt.

His friends, his best mate and one of his _girl _friends, were really in a weird (at least to him) and awkward position.

They were both hugging. Of course, this at first sight was normal. But if you looked carefully like their friends did, they would have noticed the small details. Like the fact_ Harry_ was the one hugging Annie. He had both arms locked around her torso in a tight hug. Annie on the other hand, was nuzzling her nose into his mop of black hair. Both of them looked so peacefully.

And then Fred and George came with Colin's camera.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" she snarled. A flash of light caused Ron to blink several times as he still couldn't grasp what he just saw.

"What do you think?" asked Fred innocently.

"Are you both going to tease him with the photo?" Hermione anxiously asked.

The twins shared a look that had an evil glint of mischievousness.

"Nah…" they both drawled. But Ron knew this wasn't going to end up here.

* * *

_Anya's POV_

When I woke up, I knew something was wrong. And it was not the fact of Sirius Black getting the castle.

The next week the first topic of conversation would be Sirius Black. The theories continued and even bets were made as the new theory became more extremely crazier than the one before. Just ask Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff: she always says that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.

The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. To our misfortune, he challenged people to duels and the rest of the time invented ridicoulously complicated password that no one ever guessed. And he changed them twice a week!

Seamus tried to coax Percy to change the portrait, but the later informed that everyone was frightened and that Sir Cadogan was the only one that bravely volunteered.

And still after that night, Harry hadn't talked to me at all.

He had been avoiding me everytime we were alone and he simply ignored me when the four of us we together. And when he caughts my eye, he blushes! I asked Hermione what was going on and she only shakes her head and with a sort of smile, walks away.

One time I caught her whisper to Harry something that leaved me more confused and I quote:

"See, World War II would begin again and she still would be asleep."

More intrigued, I tried giving Ron a lot of food in exchange of information, but he only would choke up a laugh and walk away, too.

All this secrecy is starting to annoy me.


	15. Dreadful days

It was the day before the match. Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. Slytherin used the excuse that they seeker was still injured and they wouldn't play. Those sneaky snakes. It was pouring rain, and seemed to be a hurricane out there. I heard Oliver mention they could put up to it, but I seriously doubted it.

Someone up there must really hate Harry.

Our first class was Defense Against the Dark Arts.

But there was this _tiny_ detail.

It wasn't Lupin who received us.

Professor Snape was slamming shut all the curtains in the windows, leaving us in a dark room.

"Not only Potions, now he is here too!" Ron hissed behind me.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked. We both looked behind us and finally noticed that Harry had not followed us into the classroom.

"He was right behind us," Ron said.

I didn't say anything. If Harry was going to ignore me, then I would do the same.

Three, Five, ten minutes later and Harry still didn't appear. Snape was doing a speak that certainly questioned and offended Lupin's method of teaching. The jealous git.

Suddenly Harry bursted into the room.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin, I-" Harry broke off as he noticed Snape.

"The lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

Harry still stood in the doorway.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" he asked.

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," Snape said. "I believe I told you to sit down?"

Harry didn't move.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked.

"Nothing life-threatening," Snape said. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."

Harry walked over to our table and sat in between Ron and Hermione, I on her other side.

Snape walked to the back of the class where a podium stood next to a projector. A screen dropped from the ceiling in front of us.

"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far-"

"Please, sir, we've done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows," Hermione said, "and we were just about to start-"

"Be quiet," Snape said. "I did not ask for information, I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

"He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," Dean boldly said. A murmur of agreement arose in the students.

I never thought Snape would look so menacing.

"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly overtaxing you - I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we shall discuss -"

The screen in front of us turned on and an image of the man of Vitruvius appeared. Like any magical photo, the man was moving, except it transformed into a –

" - werewolves," Snape finished.

I was confused. Like I always do, I read all the book before classes started and I remember that information was almost finishing the book.

"But, sir," Hermione said, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start hinkypunks -"

"Miss Granger," Snape said in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." He glanced around again. _"All_ of you! _Now!"_

With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" Snape asked.

No one raised their hand except Hermione.

"Anyone?" Snape asked, ignoring her. A twisted smile made its way on his face. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between -"

"We told you," Parvati suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on -"

_"Silence!"_ Snape snarled. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..."

"Please, sir," Hermione said, her hand still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several ways. The snout of the werewolf -"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," Snape said coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione pulled her hand back, looking like she was going to cry.

I glared at him.

"It's quite rude to ignore someone you know," the words already left my mouth before I knew it. "She has the answer, you plain ignore her. That doesn't say something good about yourself."

Everyone was gaping at me. The silent student did just talk back to a teacher?

"Besides, if you are going to ignore her, then why ask if you don't want to be told?" Ron added.

Snape looked livid. He slowly advanced towards our table, and the room held its breath.

"Detention, Barton, Weasley," Snape said, pulling his face very close to us. "And if I ever heard either of you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. We sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work we had been doing with Professor Lupin.

"Very poorly explained...That is incorrect, the kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia...Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it a three..."

When the bell rang at last, Snape held us back.

"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I went two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, Barton, stay behind, we need to arrange both of your detentions."

We watched as everyone left the classroom.

After having a slight glaring competition, we both warily approached Snape in his desk.

"I will have you two clean out the bedpans in the hospital wing tonight. Without magic, of course. That's it, you may leave."

I was confused, again. Snape always put several punishments for detention, I had heard. Then why something it was so easy?

Ron, not used to hard work, was of course fuming.

We caught up with Harry and Hermione.

"D'you know what that -" (he called Snape something that made Hermione say _"Ron!"_) " - is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. _Without magic!"_ He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. I rolled my eyes. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"

"I think he was being too soft," I muttered to Hermione. Hermione looked at me with pity. She knew that in the Orphanage I at least expected that than the hits.

* * *

I woke up with a serious pain in my arms and hands. I didn't know they were that many beds.

It was a dark morning. Lightning's thundered outside dramatically. The wind seemed to knock off trees the size of Harry.

It was a bad omen.

We went to the Quidditch Pitch and I already was soaked wet. We tried to put our jackets above our heads, but the wind didn't make it easy.

Neville had an umbrella with him, but just as he opened it the thing got blown away.

"It wasn't my favorite," he muttered.

I couldn't hear the commentary of Lee Jordan at all. I only knew that we were up by fifty points because Ron told me and that Harry seemed to not see clearly.

"He needs a charm on his glasses!" I yelled over the wind. And then Oliver called up a timeout.

Hermione ran down with the team quickly and then came back looked satisfied.

"So?!"

"I put the _Impervius _charm on his glasses!" she said proudly.

"Bloody brilliant!" Ron yelled.

We continued to try and follow the match. We were so close to winning. Harry soon started following the Hufflepuff seeker, but everyone around me started to fall quiet.

"Oh no…" Hermione gasped quietly.

A sudden chill ran though my spine. It was so cold! Everything seemed more sadder –

And I understood then. Dementors.

And not only just a pair. Hundred of them were all over the Quidditch pitch. And most of them were going to a same point.

Harry.

The same cold I felt on the train tried to enter the very center of my heart. I tried to resist but, it was impossible, the feeling was too much to resist.

"_You know, I always wondered why YOU of everyone weren't the first to die," it was the same woman again. "Imagine my shock when I learned the truth." She sighed wistfully. "Don't you have something to say, Alec, dearie?" she mocked him. "Oh, that's right! You are dead! Ow, silly me!"_

I shook my head. And I heard gasps and frantic exclaims.

I looked to the field and my heart sank. Harry was falling from the sky! The fall would kill him!

"_Aresto Momentum_!" Mr. Dumbledore's voice rang and somehow Harry started slowing down until he hit the grass.

My heart was pounding fast. Was he alright? He wasn't hurt wasn't he?

But I swear that I never had thought that I would see a very mad Albus Dumbledore. His face was contorting in silent fury as he made another spell and the Dementors fled away from the pitch.

Harry was set on a stretcher and the teachers didn't let us see him until he already was set on the Hospital Wing. The whole Gryffindor team, except Oliver, followed us. Hermione delayed a bit, but when she entered, she had a very grim expression and seemed to want to cry again.

She tried to talk but faltered. Sighing, she showed us the inside of her bag and what we saw made me very sad. It was Harry's broom torn into pieces. Ron looked so pale to even see if it was possible for a broom to end like this. Hermione said that Professor Flitwick found it near the Whomping Willow and – that kind of explained all.

We all were surrounding his bed. Madam Pomfrey had shrieked that we were leaving a lot of mud on her floor but we didn't pay her attention and she gave up.

"Lucky the ground was so soft." I rolled my eyes. There was mud; of course it would be soft!

"I thought he was dead for sure." I paled. Harry surely looked pale but saying that –

"But he didn't even break his glasses." We all looked at Ron. Did he seriously wonder why he didn't even break his glasses when Harry could have died?

"Harry!" Fred's yell brought our attention to the bed. "How're you feeling?"

"What happened?" he asked siting up brusquely. Everyone gasped at this.

"You fell off," Fred said. "Must've been—what—fifty feet?"

"We thought you died," Alicia Spinnet said shaking madly at the thought.

"But the match. What happened? Are we doing a replay?" Harry asked. We shared an uncomfortable glance. Who would be the one to explain we just lost?

"We didn't—_lose_?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," George said. "Just after you fell. He didn't realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square...even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" Harry asked.

"Still in the showers," Fred said. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly.

"C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before," Fred said.

"There had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.

"It's not over yet," said Fred. "We lost by a hundred points."

"Right? So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin…"

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw…"

"No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff…"

"It all depends on the points — a margin of a hundred either way —" Harry lay there, not saying a word.

After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave him in peace.

"We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."

The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. The three of us drew nearer.

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away…He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him —"

"Then he magicked you onto a stretcher," Ron said. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were…"

Ron didn't have to finish. Harry must have an idea. But why is he so affected by the Dementors?

"Did someone get my Nimbus?" Harry asked. Both Hermione and Ron looked at me. I frowned at them. I wasn't going to tell him what happened to his beloved broom.

"Er-" Ron faltered.

"What?" Harry asked, looking at the three of us.

"Well...when you fell off, it got blown away," Hermione said.

"And?" Harry asked.

"And it hit—it hit—oh, Harry—it hit the Whomping Willow," Hermione cried.

"And?" he asked this time softly.

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron. "It — it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," said Hermione in a very small voice.

Slowly, she reached down for her bag at her feet, turned it upside down, and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick.

Not knowing what to say to comfort him, I put a hesitant hand on his shoulder.


	16. You're not alone on this

_Harry's POV_

Madam Pomfrey insisted to keep me in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. I didn't argue nor complain her decision; like I am sure I would have done before. What I really didn't let her do was to throw away the shattered remains of my Nimbus.

Yes, it really looked stupid. I know it was beyond repair, but… it was like a friend. With her I learned to fly, won my first Quidditch game – I just – thought it would be forever there at my side, you know. A best friend that I suddenly lost.

I don't expect anyone to understand, actually.

A lot of people visited me trying to cheer me up. Hagrid sent him a bunch of earwiggy flowers that looked like yellow cabbages, and Ginny, blushing furiously, turned up with a get-well card she made herself that sang. It was a really nice gesture of her, but the shrilly voice was starting to get to my head, so most of the time I kept it shut under a bowl of fruit.

The Gryffindor team visited the last day of my stay, this time accompanied by Wood. He really looked like a monster of one of those horror movies Dudley once saw.

"I don't blame you in the slightest, Harry," his voice even sounded hollow. Thinking of it, the better description for him is the term _'living dead'_. Or simply zombie.

Ron, Hermione and Annie came all the days and stayed until night, when Madam Pomfrey ushered them and always wondered out loud if they didn't have something else to do.

But nothing any of them said to me could make me feel any better.

The broom was only a part of what it troubled me.

I was starting to get worried about the Grim. What if Professor Trelawney was right? I mean, I have seen a black dog twice. The first time I was almost been run over by the Knight Bus. And the second, I fell fifty feet from my broomstick. Both near-fatal accidents. Was the Grim going to haunt me until I die? Do I have to look over my shoulder from now on for the beast?

And there were still the Dementors. I felt sick and humiliated every time I thought of them. Everyone said that Dementors were horrible, but no one else besides me had every time collapsed near one.

No one else hears the echoes of the voices of their mother pleading to spare the life of her son, screaming on pain… dying.

I replayed a lot the same words I had heard on my stay, and I am completely sure it was her.

And there was still Voldemort's cruel laugh.

I couldn't precisely tell anyone. Ron would panic and Hermione would scoff. And Annie…well – I am not really sure what her reaction would be. She's very difficult to read. And then I had been ignoring her since _that _morning in the Great Hall. I couldn't even look at her without turning beat red!

But – but maybe… it-it could work. She doesn't say much, so Annie possibly just will listen?

When did everything started to get difficult?

* * *

It was a relief to return to the noise and bustle of the school, where I was forced to think about other things, even if I had to endure Draco Malfoy's taunting. Malfoy was almost beside himself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat. He had finally taken off his bandages, and celebrated having the full use of both arms again by doing spirited imitations of me falling off my broom. Malfoy spent much of our next Potions class doing dementor imitations across the dungeon; Ron finally cracked and flung a large, slippery crocodile heart at Malfoy, which hit him in the face and caused Snape to take fifty points from Gryffindor.

But one significant morning, I went down to the common room. It was lonely, except for the small figure in the corner reading a book.

* * *

_Anya's POV_

Finally deciding to do Snape's essay, I went down to the common room. I mean, Hermione had kept nagging me to do it. _What if Snape was in the next class too? He'll take points! _She said.

The room was empty so I decided to do here my homework instead of the library. I had some books on my lap and read about their 'situation' on the Full moon. It mentioned the dates too.

_That's ironic. _The day of Halloween was a Full moon. Maybe Snape knew it when he assigned the paper on Werewolves. But what a coincidence actually. Lupin sick and Snape giving us that homework the same day.

I didn't think further on it as I felt someone sitting on my left. A little startled, I looked up. It was Harry.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hi," I stared at him. He was looking anywhere but me. But like if he wanted to say something, too.

I continued reading and writing at the same time. Harry just sat there, shifting once or twice in his place, and didn't say anything at all.

"Okay, spit it out," I said. Harry jumped, apparently not expecting that. I put my book and the quill down on the table and looked directly to his eyes. Harry blinked several times, and frowned as in thought.

He sighed, passing a hand through his black hair.

I still stared at him.

"I don't know what to do," he started, looking at front of him. "A-a lot has been happening…"

And he started explaining since he listened about Black from Mr. Weasley. He told me that Mr. Weasley made him swear to not look for him. Why, he wasn't sure. When Trelawney talked about the Grim, and how it was an omen of death. That he saw a black dog two times and was almost killed. In fact, before the Dementors arrived, he saw it on the stands! And how he felt as if he lost a friend on his broom.

In all his speak, I didn't say a word, neither a commentary nor a remark. I knew that he had to say this out loud, or it will still haunt him.

But a suddenly thought crossed my mind. Why Harry was telling me all of this? He could have told Ron, his best friend. Or Hermione, for that matter. She would have a logical answer for him.

I'm just Annie. We don't talk much, and if I remember, he was plain ignoring me.

When he started talking about the Dementors, he faltered.

I narrowed my eyes. Did he too hear something bad? Something he didn't remember before? But what could harm him so easily?

The truth hit me hard.

"You remember your parents dying, am I right?" I said quietly.

Harry didn't move at all. But a moment later gave a nod.

Now it was my turn to be the awkward one here.

What do I do? I don't know what exactly to say to comfort him. I should have known. He should have told Hermione all of this.

"She's pleading for my life," Harry quietly said. I assume he's referring to his mom. "And _he laughs_ at her for It." the end was a bit bitter though I couldn't blame him. I myself had a similar problem of my own.

We stayed quiet, the both of us staring at the empty fireplace in a solemn silence.

"Remember our first class with Lupin this year?"_ if Harry could tell me this, is fair that I do the same. _"With the boggart?" Harry looking confused nodded. "The woman you saw…is the woman I hear every time when a Dementor appears. I – I'm almost completely sure that she…" I swallowed, "killed my father." Harry looked at me with widened eyes. "In fact, I believe that is what I hear. The moment when he dies."

He didn't say anything nor did I, as slowly students began to appear.

But at least he knows that he's not alone on this.

* * *

"If Snape's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts again, I'm skiving off," Ron said as we headed up to Lupin's classroom. "Check who's in there, Hermione."

Hermione looked around the corner and relief spread across her face.

"It's okay!" she said.

Indeed he was, looking worse than just having a cold. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes. Nevertheless, he still smiled at the class. And as finally the last student sat, nearly in sync, everyone began to complain about Snape and his essay.

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?"

"We don't know anything about werewolves -"

" - two rolls of parchment!"

"Did you tell Professor Snape we hadn't covered them yet?" Lupin asked, frowning slightly.

The babble broke out again.

"Yes, but he said we were really behind -"

" - he wouldn't listen -"

" - _two rolls of parchment!" _shouted Ron. I glared at him, massaging my left ear.

Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.

"Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay." I groaned. I _did _finish it.

"Oh, _no_," Hermione said. "I've already finished it!"

We had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who looked as though he were made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless-looking.

"Lures travelers into bogs," Professor Lupin said as we took notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hopes ahead - people follow the light - then -"

The hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.

As I packed my books, Professor Lupin called Harry.

The three of us went away, but Hermione said that she wanted to go to the library and needed my help for homework in Arithmancy. I frowned at that. Hermione knows that I am bad at numbers. Ron, not wanting to hear or even see that, shrugged and walked away.

"Hermione. You know I am bad at Arithmancy. What's goi –"

Hermione grabbed my hand and quickly pulled me into an empty classroom.

"Now I'm worried. What's going on?" I asked her.

Hermione bit her lip and started pacing in front of me. Really! She could be digging a hole now!

"Have you noticed something strange while writing the essay?" she said.

"A lot actually," she beamed at me. "Like why Snape put us that theme exactly, or if he knew that he put it the exact day that a Full moon appeared, or that Lupin looks very sickly. Aside from that, nothing. Why?" Hermione instantly deflated.

"Annie!" she snapped. "Professor Lupin is a werewolf!"

I blinked several times at her.

"Huh?"


	17. A Shocking Discovery

After definitely cowering from Hermione's glare, we both decided to not tell anyone abut Lupin. After all, he was the best teacher we had.

Since that talk with Lupin, Harry was in a better mood two weeks before Christmas. He explained to us that the Professor was going to teach him how to repel a Dementor. Lucky him.

Ron and Hermione decided to stay for Christmas saying somehow ridiculous excuses to Harry. I only told him I was going to stay here for the same reason as the last Christmas and he understood.

Oh, yes. I forgot to say. Harry wasn't ignoring me anymore; we were on good terms again. Must be the conversation that morning.

One day, Professor Flitwick charmed his classroom with shimmering lights and turned out to be fairies. They were very persistent on bothering the students actually. Specially the girls. Lavender spent all the time cooing over them, but glared when they went directly towards Hermione, believing her to be more interesting than Lavender.

A notice came out. There was going to be another Hogsmeade visit before Christmas and Hermione eagerly said that she wanted to do her Christmas shop there. Harry and I, of course, fell into the sour mood again.

Resigned to the fact that we would be the only third years staying behind again, Harry borrowed a copy of _Which Broomstick _from Wood, and decided to spend the day reading up on the different types of brooms, claiming that he needed one of his own.

I on the other hand, spent the most of my time in the library, reading old newspapers from the _Daily Prophet. _I decided to know who the woman _is_, and if she was someone deadly famous as to what she had done, I can hopefully find her here.

Madam Pince thought I was doing a fruitless search, sending me unbelievable glances every once. Or maybe she thought I was being ridiculous. I can't tell well.

But I was beginning to give up. I hadn't actually found anything!

"Ach," I breathed in annoyance. I banged my head onto the table, the hit's echo running through the big room, and receiving a glare in the process from Madam Pince.

And the silence it was set before broke when loud footsteps banged into the library.

"Annie!"

"SHH!" Madam Pince quiet him down, but he ignored her.

I pulled my head back and looked to a slightly flustered Harry standing in front of me, looking somehow excited. I frowned at him. Wasn't him sour just a few hours ago?

"Harry, what are you –" but he grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the librarian's annoyed face.

Harry half dragged me to I don't know where, almost wanting to run.

"Keep your hair on, Harry!" I gasped. We finally came to a stop where a statue of a hump-backed, one-eyed witch stood.

I panted, trying to get a hold of myself.

"So?" I asked him breathless.

Harry quickly pulled out something from his robe and –

I laughed.

He was holding a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it and was looking very excited the mere act of showing it to me.

"Did you just dragged me away to get a look to this old parchment?" I asked him.

"What?" Harry looked aghast. I glanced down at it and he let a small 'oh'. "No, Annie. Look at this," he pointed his wand at the parchment and said, _"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."_

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Blitz and Prongs_

_Providers of Aids to Magical Mischief - Makers_

_are proud to present_

_**THE MARAUDER'S MAP**_

I gaped at it. It showed every detail of Hogwarts and its grounds. And it had dots with tiny names walking around. Like Mrs. Norris in the second floor and Peeves in the trophy room.

"Wow," I breathed in amazement. This – this is a masterpiece! "Harry, how did you got this?"

"Fred and George," he said. "This map shows secret passageways out of the castle and where is everyone inside of it at every moment of every day. They stole it from Filch's office during their first-year."

"And why did they give it to you?"

"What else?" he looked at me exasperatedly. "Haven't you looked? It shows how to go to Hogsmeade."

And it was true. There were seven passages that lead right to Hogsmeade.

"Harry –"

"You like to say my name a lot," he playfully said. But I frowned at him.

"I'm serious here. Are you sure we can trust this 'Marauders'? I mean, you know what happened with the last object that thought for itself."

"Yes, I thought of it. But Fred and George have used it for four years without anything horrible happening…"

"And you called ME why?"

"Let's go to Hogsmeade."

"No, it's against the rules."

"Please."

"No."

"Annie, please…" and he started pouting, at the same time doing puppy eyes.

Where did he learn that?

* * *

"Told you it was safe."

I merely glared at him.

Five minutes later of him pleading, I finally accepted to go with him. The statue turned out to be a passage to Honeydukes, and we were currently on the cellar of the sweetshop.

Hiding behind the boxes, we could see a bald man buried inside of a box. And very quickly we both went upstairs and opened the top door, ending at the counter of Honeydukes. It was so crowded with Hogwarts students that no one looked twice at either Harry or I.

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavor Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the leviating sherbert balls that Ron had mentioned; along yet another wall were 'Special Effects' sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-colored bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Peppy Imps ("breath fire for your friends!"), Ice Mice ("hear your teeth chatter and squeak!"), peppermint creams shaped like toads ("hop realistically in the stomach!"), fragile sugar-spun quills, and exploding bonbons.

We squeezed ourselves through a crowd of sixth years and saw a sign hanging in the farthest corner of the shop (**UNUSUAL TASTES**). Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavored lollipops. Looking at each other with grins, we sneaked up behind them.

"Ugh, no, neither Harry nor Annie would want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect," Hermione was saying.

"How about these?" Ron asked, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose.

"Definitely not," Harry and I said together.

Ron nearly dropped the jar.

_"Harry! Annie!"_ Hermione squealed. "What are you two doing here? How - how did you -"

"Wow!" Ron said, looking very impressed, "you've both learned to Apparate!"

"'Course not," I said. Harry started to explain them about the Marauder's map.

"How come Fred and George never gave it to _me_!" Ron said, outraged. "I'm their brother!"

"But Harry isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as though the idea were ludicrous. "He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?"

"No, I'm not!" Harry said.

"Are you mad?" Ron asked, goggling at Hermione. "Hand in something that good?"

"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would know Fred and George had nicked it!"

"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"

"He can't be getting in through a passage," Harry said quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already know about four of them. And of the other three - one of them's caved in…" I didn't hear much as I suddenly found a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.

_**BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC**_

_Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.  
_

_Merry Christmas!_

Ron looked at me noticing I was distracted and he too saw the notice. He cleared his throat and pointed at it, clearly founding the solution at our problem.

"See?" Ron said quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with Dementors swarming all over the village. Anyone, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

"Yes, but - but -" Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, neither Harry nor Annie should be coming into Hogsmeade. Neither of them have got a signed form! If anyone finds out, they'll both be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet - what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"

"He'd have a job spotting Harry and Annie in this," Ron said, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. "Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. Harry deserves a break."

Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.

"Are you going to report us?" Harry asked her, grinning.

"Oh - of course not - but honestly, Harry -"

"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry?" Ron asked, grabbing him and leading him over to a barrel.

Hermione turned to me and her eyes had this glint I didn't like.

"Why didn't you stop him? You both are going to be in so much trouble!"

"Hey, I _did_ try to convince him the map was evil, but if you were on my place you couldn't have said no with those puppy eyes he did." And odd look came to Hermione's face and the corner of her lip raised slightly. "Besides, Ron's right. Harry does need a break. He's been too broody for our sake. And you don't want him to look like that, don't you?"

Hermione softened a little and didn't say more.

When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, the four of us left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.

Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.

Harry and I shivered; unlike the other two, we didn't have our cloaks. We headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron and Hermione shouting through their scarves.

"That's the post office -"

"Zonko's is up there -"

"We could go up to the Shrieking Shack -"

"Tell you what," Ron said, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"

I nodded animatedly, rubbing both arms. We crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.

It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.

"That's Madam Rosmerta," Ron said. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" he added, going slightly red.

Harry, Hermione and I made our way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.

"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

I was going to take a sip but a sudden breeze made me look at the door and my eyes widened as Harry choked.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak.

I quickly went under the table taking my tankard with me and Harry followed shortly, almost shoving my drink. We saw the teachers and the bowler hat man's feets move toward the bar, pause, then turn and walk right toward us.

Above us, Hermione whispered, _"Mobiliarbus!"_

The Christmas tree beside our table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of our table, hiding us from view. Staring through the dense lower branches, I saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside ours, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and minister as they sat down.

Next we saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.

"A small gillywater -"

"Mine," Professor McGonagall's voice said.

"Four pints of mulled mead -"

"Ta, Rosmerta," Hagrid said.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella -"

"Mmm!" Professor Flitwick said. I giggled a little.

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister." My eyes widened. Minister?! Cornelius Fudge?!

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," the Minister's voice said. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us..."

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

I watched the glittering heels march away and back again. I had the need to slap myself. Why it hadn't occurred to me that maybe the teachers were going to be here?

Instead I gave a sip to my drink. It was delicious! It made me feel warm.

Harry looked at me incredulously and I mouthed 'What?' He shook his head and continued looking towards the teacher's table.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" Madam Rostmerta said.

The lower part of the Minister thick body twisted in his chair and said in a low voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear a rumor," Madam Rosmerta admitted.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" Professor McGonagall said, exasperatedly.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" Madam Rosmerta whispered.

"I'm sure of it," Fudge said shortly.

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole village twice?" Madam Rosmerta said, a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away...It's very bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," Fudge said uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution...unfortunate, but there you are...I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore - he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"Hear, hear!" Tiny Professor Flitwick squeaked, his feet dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," Fudge demurred, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse...We all know what Black's capable of..."

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," Madam Rosmerta said thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought...I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," Fudge said gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" Madam Rosmerta said, her voice alive with curiousity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," Fudge said.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta?" Professor McGonagall murmured. "Do you remember who his best friends were?"

"Naturally," Madam Rosmerta said, with a small laugh. "Never saw any of them by themselves, did you? The number of times I had them in here - ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the triple act, twins Sirius and Serena Black, and James Potter."

Harry dropped his tankard with a loud clunk. Ron kicked him.

I frowned. Black had a sister?

"Precisely," Professor McGonagall said. "The Blacks and Potter. Ring-leaders of their little gang. All three very bright, of course - exceptionally bright, in fact - but I don't think we've ever had such a trio of troublemakers -"

"I dunno," Hagrid chuckled. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought James was their triplet!" Professor Flitwick chimed in. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," Fudge said. "Potter trusted the Blacks beyond all their other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man and his twin a bridesmaid when James married Lilly. Then they named them godparents to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" Madam Rosmerta whispered.

"Worse even than that, m'dear…" Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" Madam Rosmerta asked.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find - unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"

"So Sirius Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" Madam Rosmerta whispered.

"Naturally," Professor McGonagall said. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself…and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Black? Then why didn't his sister took the place?" Madam Rosmerta asked.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "It turned out You-Know-Who wasn't only searching for the Potters. We didn't knew at the time why he needed Serena. But later it was revealed that You-Know-Who was looking solely for her family: her husband, Alec Barton, and their daughter, little Anya."

My eyes widened. Tears started to sting in my eyes. My mum was a… Black? Sirius Black's sister no less! So that meant Black was my uncle! Harry was staring at me bewildered too, but I was listening again to them.

"Either way, Dumbledore suspected that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements. Indeed, they had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"

"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed —"

"Black betrayed them?"

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. Serena apparently discovered his plan and went to warn them, because her body was found next to James'. Too late she arrived. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it —"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" Professor McGonagall said.

"I met him!" Hagrid growled. "I musta bin the last er see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead…an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared.

"Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voice down!"

"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lilly, James, an' Serena? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! Not even his sister! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him —' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says.

"I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him.

"_But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? _I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to em anymore…"

A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Posmerta said with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," Fudge said bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew - another of Potters' and Powers' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself."

"Pettigrew...that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?" Madam Rosmerta asked.

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter. Had a little crush on Serena too, if I remember," Professor McGonagall said. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I - how I regret that now..." She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Minerva," Fudge said, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses—Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later—told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily, James and Serena, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens..."

I shuddered at the image of that.

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid boy...foolish boy...he was always hopeless at dueling...should have left it to the Ministry..."

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands - I'd've ripped him limb - from - limb," Hagrid growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," Fudge said sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I - I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him...a heap of bloodstained robes and a few - a few fragments -"

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.

"Well, there you have it Rosmerta," Fudge said thickly. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," Fudge said. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man—cruel...pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them... but I was shocked at how _normal_ Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored—asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him—and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" Madam Rosmerta asked. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?"

"I daresay that is his—er—eventual plan," Fudge said. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing...but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again..."

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.

"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle," Professor McGonagall said.

One by one, the pairs of feet in front of Harry and I took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight, and Madam Rosmerta's glittering heels disappearing behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers had disappeared.

"Harry? Annie?"

I could barely see Hermione's and Ron's faces.

A lonely tear ran down my cheek.


	18. Why it happens to us?

_Harry's POV_

I don't have a very clear idea of how we managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel, and into the castle once more. All I knew was that the return trip took no time at all, and I hardly noticed what I was doing.

Why had anybody told me? Dumbledore, Hagrid, Mr. Weasley, Cornelius Fudge…why hadn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that my parents had died because their best friend had betrayed them?

Ron and Hermione watched me nervously through all dinner, not saying anything about what we heard because Percy was sitting two seats away. Annie didn't even dare to come down.

When we went upstairs to the crowded common room, Fred and George had set off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of en-of-term high spirits. Not wanting them to ask me if I reached Hogsmeade, I sneaked quietly up to the empty dormitory and headed straight to my bedside cabinet. I pushed all the books aside and found a leather-bound one. The photo album Hagrid had given me in my First year, which was full of wizard pictures of my parents.

I started searching through pages, until…

The photo of their wedding. There was my dad waving up at me, beaming, and his untidy black hair standing in all directions. And my mum alight with happiness, arm in arm with dad. And behind them was another couple besides another man. The woman and one of the men looking almost the same. That must be them. Their best man and bridesmaid… I never had given them a thought before.

If I hadn't known it was the same person, I would never had guessed it was Black. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. The same was with his sister. Both of them with curly dark brown hair and a pair of distinguished grey/silver eyes… Annie have the same features… except for the eyes.

Had Sirius Black already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?

As I stared to the handsome and laughing face, a thought came to me. Dementors don't affect him.

_He doesn't have to hear my Mum screaming if they get too close —_

I slammed the album shut, reached over and stuffed it back into the cabinet, took off my robe and glasses and got into bed, making sure the hangings hid me from view.

The dormitory door opened.

"Harry?" Ron's said voice uncertainly. But I lay still, pretending to be asleep. I heard Ron leave again and I rolled over to my back, my eyes wide open.

Hate. I never have hated someone like this. Of course there was Snape and Malfoy, even Voldemort and the Dursleys, but the feeling itself never… I felt it coursing through my veins like poison. A feeling that somehow felt…good. It was bad, but good. I let it ran through me with pleasure.

I had a dream that night.

Black was laughing at me through the darkness I was in, the same man with grey haunted eyes from the photo glaring at me with malice. And like a film, I saw Sirius Black blasting Peter Pettigrew (whom had an uncanny resemblance to Neville Longbottom) into thousand pieces. Even not having idea how it sounded Black's voice, I could hear his excited muttering _"It has happened, My Lord…the Potters have made me their Secret-Keeper"_ and then came another voice, laughing shrilly, the same laugh that I hear inside my head whenever the Dementors drew near…

* * *

"Harry, you — you look terrible." Were the words that greeted me.

I hadn't sleep until daybreak. When I woke up the dormitory was deserted, so I dressed and went down the spiral staircase to the common room to find empty too. Except for Ron eating a Peppermint Toad and Hermione doing her homework. Annie was nowhere in sight.

I prefer it that way. I don't know if I could see her face and don't remember Black. I know that it isn't her fault, neither her mum's _apparently_, but still…

"Where is everyone?" I asked.

"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" Ron watched me closely, as I was a bomb going to explode any moment. "It's nearly lunchtime; I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."

I slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug.

"You really don't look well, you know," Hermione said, peering anxiously to my face.

"I'm fine," I dully said.

"Harry, listen," Hermione said, exchanging a look with Ron, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."

"Like what?"

"Like trying to go after Black," Ron said sharply.

I had the feeling that they had rehearsed this conversation while I had been asleep.

"You won't, will you, Harry?" Hermione asked carefully.

"Because Black's not worth dying for," Ron said.

They didn't understand.

"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Ron and Hermione shook their heads, looking apprehensive. "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her —"

"There's nothing you can do!" Hermione said, looking stricken. "The Dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and — and serve him right!"

"You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others."

"So what are you saying?" Ron suddenly looked tense. "You want to — to kill Black or something?"

"Don't be silly," Hermione laughed nervously. "Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?"

I didn't say anything. I really didn't know what I wanted. All I knew saw that the idea of not doing anything, while Black was at liberty, was almost more I could stand.

I frowned.

"Malfoy knows," I said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me and Annie in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself…I'd want revenge.'" And I remember the look he gave to her specifically.

"You're going to take Malfoy's advice instead of ours?" Ron was furious. "Listen…you know what Pettigrew's mother got back after Black had finished with him? Dad told me — the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit of him they could find. Black's a madman, Harry, and he's dangerous —"

"Malfoy's dad must have told him," I ignored Ron. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle —"

_"Say You-Know-Who, will you?"_ Ron interjected angrily.

" - so obviously, the Malfoys knew Black was working for Voldemort -"

" - and Malfoy'd love to see you both blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. Malfoy's just hoping you'll both get yourselves killed before he has to play you at Quidditch."

"Harry, _please_," said Hermione, her eyes now shining with tears, "_Please _be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d-don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants…Oh, Harry, you'd be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Black!"

"I'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them," I said shortly.

There was a silence in which Crookshanks stretched luxuriously flexing his claws. Ron's pocket quivered.

"Look," Ron said, obviously casting around for a change of subject, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's — let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"

"No!" Hermione said quickly. "Harry isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ron —"

"Yeah, let's go," I sat up, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!"

"Or we could play a game of chess," Ron said, quickly, "or Gobstones. Percy left a set-"

"No, let's visit Hagrid," I said firmly.

* * *

_Anya's POV_

I cried. In our return to Hogwarts, Harry barely looked at me once. Honestly… I don't blame him.

My mind was dull.

I went directly to the common room and to my dormitory, not even going to the delicious feast that normally I don't miss.

I sat on my bed and closed the curtains around me. And I only stared at the canopy.

The sound of hooting caught my attention and I opened the window. Cal flew directly to my bed and stared directly to my eyes. I could have sworn he had a look of worry but…

Sighing, I took him and rested myself on my back. I stroked his feathers lazily and automatically, and resumed my staring to the canopy.

I never thought of my mom actually. With the Dementors around, I started focusing on my dad and his death. In fact, I never knew what her name was until now.

The Black girl. Now I know that Firenze, the centaur we met in the Forbidden Forest, recognized me as my mother's daughter, not by my name.

But this afternoon I learned something. My mother was Serena Black, sister and twin of Sirius Black. Best friend with James Potter, and stayed by his side until their deaths. Voldemort was looking for dad and me that time. Disturbing as it sound, this Peter Pettigrew, another friend of their group, had a crush with my mom, and he madly went after Black, and ended blown. Black betrayed his best friend's trust and the Potters were killed.

And most importantly of all. I was Sirius Black's niece, and he wants to kill my friend.

"Cal," I mumbled. "Why the bad news always belong to me? Why is always Harry in the crossfire and I end up alongside with him? Why faith had to be so cruel with us?"

My darker friend hooted a response so softly that I almost didn't hear.

But I knew what he meant. _I am not sure._

* * *

Next morning I woke up dizzy. Cal was nestled in my neck asleep.

Snow fell outside the window as a silent remembering of the holidays.

The other only occupied bed was Hermione's. She was still sleeping.

I carefully slid out of bed and I wrote a note to her.

'_I am going to take a walk. Don't worry about me. Annie.'_

My owl, fully awake now that I stood, was nibbling my left hand while I wrote.

"Cal, give this to Hermione when she awakes, will you?" Caleb nodded slowly and flew to my bedside cabinet.

I put black pants and Mrs. Weasley homemade sweater she gave me last year along with the pink knitted gloves and I pulled my cloak around me.

Finally putting my old Nike shoes, I sneakily went to the common room and I went outside the painting.

"Good morning beautiful maiden! Not to worry love, I'll protect you from the scoundrels that still round this castle!" Sir Cadogan yelled, bringing a small smile to my face.

"Thank you, fair sir," I said to him and Sir Cadogan beamed.

How lonely were the halls around here. Even the moving stairs didn't make a noise as they changed position. I didn't cross any teacher around.

In one of the windows, I could see a little bird flying quickly from one side to another, until it flew to the Whomping Willow and one of its branches hit it.

How curious, it reminded me of how I thought everything was going to be okay and suddenly a new hits you hard.

I continued walking until I ended in the grounds.

From the distance, I could barely see Hagrid's cabin covered in snow. Is he awake?

But today I had a bad feeling.

Running though the freezing grounds, I ended in front of his door and knocked hard.

"Hagrid, are you there? It's me, Annie!"

The door creaked open and a confused Hagrid greeted me.

"Blimey, Anne! Is freezin' out there! Come in, quickly!" Hagrid ushered me inside.

He made me sat in one of the chairs and he started to make tea. Rustle sounded and I looked into the corner. Buckbeak was sleeping in a big nest.

"Wha' brin's you here, Annie?"

I hesitated. What do I say to Hagrid? I couldn't very well tell him I know who my mom is. That would end with him asking me how I knew and I would have to tell him Harry and I went to Hogsmeade.

But, I want to know more about her.

I opened my mouth to ask him, but a little tapping brought our attention. A barn owl was waiting impatiently in the window.

Hagrid put the kettle on the table and walked towards the owl.

When he came back, Hagrid was carrying a letter with trembling hands.

"What is it Hagrid?" I asked concerned.

"'s from the school governors," he answered. He tried to open it several times but each of them failed as he ended loosening it.

"Here Hagrid," I kneeled and grabbed it. To my disgust, I saw the Hogwarts crest in it. How this letter that probably brought bad news have the crest of my beloved school? "Do you want me to read it aloud?" I asked quietly.

Hagrid opened and closed his mouth and finally nodded.

I opened it and started reading.

"_Dear Mr. Hagrid,_

_Further to our inquiry into the attack by a hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident."_

Hagrid and I sighed in relief. He wasn't going to be sacked!

"_However," _I gulped. That wasn't good._ "we must register our concern about the hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated._

_Yours in fellowship,_

I didn't read the names of the governors. Hagrid started sniffing and suddenly let out a howl like a wounded dog. Fang started whimpering, feeling his master's sadness. I could feel the tears rolling over my cheeks again.

Wasn't there going to be something good this year? Why the bad happened to Hagrid too? It wasn't enough with just Harry and me?

"I am so sorry, Hagrid," I whispered, leaving the letter on the table and hugging his right arm.

We stayed like that for the entire morning until Buckbeak woke up and I ended giving him his food (dead ferrets), as Hagrid still continued sobbing.

It was near lunch time when I thought I hear something.

I frowned. It sounds like –

"Hagrid!" someone yelled, pounding the door like there was no tomorrow. "Hagrid, are you in there?" it was Harry's voice.

Hagrid stood up quickly as he too recognized our friend. His foot pounded as he walked and opened the door to face an angry looking Harry who suddenly became confused. Hermione and Ron spotted me but I didn't say anything.

"Yeh've heard?" Hagrid asked and nearly killed Harry by giving him a hug.

Harry, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, was rescued by Ron and Hermione, who each seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved him back into the cabin. Hagrid allowed himself to be steered into the same chair he was before and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears that dripped down into his tangled beard.

"Hagrid, what _is_ it?" Hermione asked, aghast.

Harry looked at me but soon looked at the letter.

"What's this, Hagrid?"

Hagrid's sobs only redoubled, and I shoved the letter to Harry and he too read it aloud.

They fell in silence.

"Oh, but you said Buckbeak isn't a bad hippogriff, Hagrid," Ron said. "I bet he'll get off-"

"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" Hagrid said. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"

I could hear Buckbeak eating his food in the corner of the cabin. The other looked at him in surprise.

"I couldn't leave him tied up out there in the snow!" Hagrid said. "All on his own! At Christmas."

"You'll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid," Hermione said, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."

"Won't make no diff'rence!" Hagrid sobbed. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! An' if I lose the case, Buckbeak -"

Hagrid drew his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, his face in his arms.

"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" Harry asked.

"He's done more'n enough fer me already," Hagrid groaned. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around -"

Harry tightened his fists. I narrowed my eyes at him. Did he just come to demand Hagrid about yesterday? Not even I would be so mad to him. Sad, yes, but mad at Hagrid, never.

"Listen, Hagrid," Harry said, "you can't give up. Hermione's right, you just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses-"

"I'm sure I've read about a case of hippogriff-baiting," Hermione interrupted, "where the hippogriff got off. I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."

"And she will have my help," I added. Shouldn't be a problem. By now, I probably know the library as the palm of my hand.

Hagrid howled still more loudly. Harry and Hermione looked at Ron.

"Er - shall I make a cup of tea?"

Harry raised a brow.

"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Ron muttered, shrugging.

At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together..."

Fang the boarhound came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.

"I've not bin meself lately," Hagrid said, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes -"

"We do like them!" Hermione liked at once.

"Yeah, they're great!" Ron said, crossing his fingers under the table. "Er - how are the flobberworms?"

"Dead," Hagrid said gloomily. "Too much lettuce."

"Oh no!" Ron said, his lip twitching.

"An' them dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all," Hagrid said, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban -" and Hagrid gulped his tea as he closed his eyes in somewhat pain.

We never had hear him talk about his stay on Azkaban.

"Is it awful in there, Hagrid?' Hermione asked.

"Yeh've no idea," Hagrid said. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind...the day I got expelled from Hogwarts...day me dad died...day I had ter let Norbert go..."

His eyes filled with tears at the remembrance of Norbert, the dragon Hagrid received from Quirrell two years ago.

"Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep...When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."

"But you were innocent!" Hermione exclaimed.

Hagrid let out a snort and said, "Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."

That's something sad. To know you are innocent and they take the happiness turning it to sorrow.

Hagrid was quiet for a moment and then said, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go...tryin' ter make him fly away...but how d'yeh explain ter a hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An'-an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law...I don' every want ter go back ter Azkaban."

We all shared a sad glance.


	19. From dear Black

Next day the four of us went to the library, looking for cases in where a hipogriff got out without harm. There was no such luck. Either they died or we found different species that got out because they were terrifying.

And the Christmas decorations begin. It was a shame that everybody was going to their homes and not enjoy them.

And without actually time, Christmas morning arrived.

I felt someone was pinching me. At first I didn't felt it.

Then I ignored it.

And finally someone bit my hand.

"OW!" I sprang up half awake to find Hermione in the other bed giggling, Crookshanks looking at my hand, and in my hand was Cal still biting my fingers.

"Hey, let go Cal!" I waved my hand until Cal fell at the end of my bed.

"Merry Christmas," Hermione smiled. I grumbled in reply and that made her laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want…"

Hermione just shrugged off my grumbles and started in on her presents at the end of her bed.

From Hermione, I got a planner. It was blue letter bound and had my name written in gold. In other words, it was beautiful.

"Thanks, Mione," I called to her. She smiled and continued looking at her gifts.

Mrs. Weasley sent me a new blue sweater with a rose on it. Last year, she caught sight of the blue immortal rose Hermione gave me in our First Year and she thought it was beautiful. I put it on.

Ron discovered my new addiction to chocolates and sent me a new big box of different types I didn't knew.

Thought we don't talk much, Neville sent me a card different at the first one he sent me two years ago. This time they were three babies playing on the snow trying to do a snowman, but failing miserably as the last ball always fell. But the image behind them caught my attention. It was a very beautiful building that seemed made of gold and somehow reminded me of this castle. But as I looked at the top, a cross with a red diamond stood proudly in the sky. It was a church.

How curious that Neville had sent me this scene.

"Oooh, _Hogwarts: A History Special Edition_!" Hermione gushed. "Thank you Annie."

"You're welcome."

Natasha sent me a red Muggle jacket of leather. With a note, she said that if I wanted I could make it grow when it didn't fit me so I could have it for a long time.

I was surprised Harry sent me something. A Gryffindor scarf. I mean, he didn't talk to me and he practically ignored me, but worse than the first time. In other words, he hadn't acknowledged me at all!

And very lonely, there was left a single box.

"Déjà vu," I said.

It didn't have a note.

Last time I received a gift like this, I found out a picture of both my parents dancing around a tree. But it had a little note.

This one not.

"What's that?" Hermione asked softly, stopping unwrapping a book from her parents.

"Dunno.."

I opened the box, only to find another one but a blue velvet type. Almost in close motion, I opened the box and I heard Hermione gasp.

Inside rested a beautiful black choker with little silver engravings on each side. And in the middle rested an onyx gem with silver surrounding it like vines and at the bottom hang an equally onyx stone.

"It's beautiful," Hermione whispered awed. "And it looks expensive! Who send it?"

"It doesn't say," I put it on my hand, rolling it over and over until I saw something unusual. A little bottom on the right side. I pushed it and to our surprises the gem moved aside. It was a locket.

It didn't end there. Instead of showing a photo, in its place was a crescent moon with a little star in the middle. All silver carved.

And there was more. A song that reminded me of a music box was playing slowly, like a sad lullaby. But I recognized it.

"_Come Little Children_

_I'll Take Thee Away, Into A Land_

_Of Enchantment_

_Come Little Children_

_The Time's Come To Play_

_Here In My Garden_

_Of Shadows…"_

I sang it. Hermione looked utterly surprised. If for the locket or the fact I can sing, I don't know.

Another surprise too. I saw an envelope on the floor, but this one _did_ have a message.

_Thought you could have a _lovely _memory! Gred and Forge._

My curiosity won and I opened it and – something fell.

And what I saw made me blush to the roots of my hair.

It was a photo of Harry and me hugging each other on the floor. I recognized the purple sleeping bags so I suppose it was taken when Sirius Black got in. but it was more embarrassing the fact that it was a moving photo and I could see myself…nuzzling his hair with a happy face!

I quickly hid it on my bedside.

"We should see the boys, don't you think?" Hermione suggested. I blushed more. I couldn't face Harry now! But she's going to suspect.

Sighing, I nodded. She picked up Crookshanks, Caleb perched himself on my shoulder and we both left the girls' dormitory and went up the stairs of the third year boys' dormitory.

I heard laughing when we were outside their door.

"What're you two laughing about?" Hermione asked, pushing the door open.

"Don't bring him in here!" Ron said, grabbing Scabbers and putting him in his pajamas pocket.

But Hermione wasn't listening. She dropped Crookshanks onto Seamus's empty bed and stared, open-mouthed at something in Harry's bed. I looked at it and I too had the same reaction.

"It's a Firebolt!" I exclaimed. Cal nudged my ear.

"Oh, _Harry_! Who sent you _that_?"

"No idea," Harry said. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."

Hermione became very white, even her hair seemed to take on a paler color. She bit her lip, hard, but no color returned to her face. And she glanced at me then at the broom.

"What's the matter with you?" Ron said.

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?"

I gaped at her.

"Only – only quite good broom?" I gasped.

"It's the best broom there is, Hermione," Ron said exasperatedly.

"So it must've been really expensive..." Hermione said.

"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together," Ron said happily.

"Well…who'd send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" asked Hermione.

"Who cares?" Ron said impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go in it? Can I?"

"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" Hermione said.

The boys looked incredulous at her.

"What d'you think Harry's going to do with it—sweep the floor?" Ron said.

Hermione didn't get a chance to say anything; Crookshanks jumped up from Seamus' bed, right at Ron's chest, where Scabbers was hidden.

"GET—HIM—OUT—OF—HERE!" Ron yelled as Crookshanks's claws ripped his pajamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the end of Harry's bed, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling with pain.

Cal flew towards Crookshanks and with his wing shook him slightly. There was a sudden shrilling song. The Pocket Sneakoscope Ron gave Harry was dislodged from some old socks and was whirling and gleaming on the floor.

"I forgot about that!" Harry said, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope. "I never wear those socks if I can help it..."

The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it. Even Cal was eyeing it wearily.

"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione," Ron said, sitting down on Harry's bed, trying to make his toe feel better. "Can't you shut that thing up?" he asked Harry.

Hermione strode out of the room and I followed her. What a Christmas.

And the feeling of happiness we usually felt in the holidays fell dramatically. Hermione had shut Crookshanks in our dormitory and Cal decided to stay there too.

But Hermione didn't talk to Ron, being angry at him for kicking her cat; Ron didn't too, because Crookshanks tried to eat Scabbers; and Harry is too busy staring at his new broom. And Hermione keep glaring at the broom.

So I went to the best place: the Great Hall.

It was nearly lunch time when I arrived. The House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only two other students, an extremely nervous-looking first year and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Barton!" said Mr. Dumbledore as I approached the table.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Dumbledore," I responded, just remembering the morning I had today.

"I heard the great news, Anya. Miss Rosenberg is very thrilled to have you on her home," Mr. Dumbledore commented.

"Really?" I smiled. "I can't wait to live with her too, sir." Dumbledore chuckled.

"She really is going to be happy when she hears that. Ah, Miss Rosenberg…" he sighed. "What a great student she was. Don't you think, Severus?"

Professor Snape became somewhat pale and didn't respond.

"Wait," I frowned. "Wasn't she –?"

"Merry Christmas!" Dumbledore said as the doors opened and in got the other three. Ron and Hermione on each side of Harry, not looking at each other. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House Tables...Sit down, sit down!"

I had the feeling they were keeping something from. I mean, Squibs can't come to Hogwarts to learn magic. But Natasha wasn't a witch. Or was she?

Side by side, the three newcomers sat at the end of the table.

"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witches hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

My eyes widened and I couldn't help but crack a small smile when Snape pushed the hat to Mr. Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once and put his on my head.

I giggled. It hid my eyes.

"Dig in!" he advised the table, beaming around.

The doors of the Great Hall opened again and Professor Trelawney glided toward the table like if she was on wheels. She was wearing green sequined dress and with her glasses, it made her look like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.

"Sybill, this is a pleasant surprise!" Dumbledore said, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," Professor Trelawney said in her mistiest, more faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness..."

"Certainly, certainly," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair -" he waved his wand, conjuring a chair in between Snape and McGonagall. It hovered for a moment before landing.

I was going to take a bit of turkey when Professor Trelawney uttered a scream and my precious food landed on the floor. I sniffed.

"I dare not, Headmaster! If I joint he table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sibyll," McGonagall said with a hint of impatience. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting cold."

Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.

"Tripe, Sybill?"

Trelawney ignored her and instead looked around the table.

"But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

How stupid of me. I didn't even notice Lupin wasn't here!

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," Dumbledore said, indicating that everyone should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

Sadly, I knew that just yesterday was Full moon.

"But surely you already knew that, Sybill?" Professor McGonagall said said, her eyebrows raised.

Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as thought I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal," Professor McGonagall said tartly.

Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty. We all looked between them, somehow reminding me of a debate fight.

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively flew when I offered to crystal gaze for him -"

"Imagine that," Profesor McGonagall said dryly.

"I doubt," Dumbledore said in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster," Snape said.

"Good," Dumbledore said. "Then he should be up and about in no time...Derek, have you had any of these chipolatas? They're excellent."

The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.

Professor Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Harry and Ron stood up first from the able and she shrieked loudly, making me loose another leg of turkey.

"My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"

"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Harry.

"I doubt it will make much difference," said Professor McGonagall coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."

Suddenly the image of the American Jack Nicholson's character in 'The Shining' came to my mind.

Ron laughed.

After saying something to Hermione, the two boys exited the Hall. And just the door closed, Hermione went directly towards McGonagall and the two began to talk quietly.

Shrugging, I helped myself to roast potatoes. Just when I was about to eat it, a shadow fell over me and I looked up to find Professor McGonagall somewhat looking sober and Hermione was fidgeting behind her.

"Professor?"

She cleared her throat. "Miss Barton. I have been told that you received a gift with no card at all," Hermione looked away from me. "Rather expensive, I may add."

"Um, yes…?"

"I need to see it immediately."

"Why?"

"I think it may be cursed," she said. "And with our current situation, and obviously, you being Mr. Potter's friend, I think it was sent with the motive of… harm."

My heart dropped. I – I never thought of it. How could I be so stupid? She was right. It was highly probable my murderous uncle sent it to me. To kill Harry… or me?

I nodded and we went outside the Hall to our common room.

Hermione quickly passed the portrait and hid herself in a book. I followed and went directly towards my dormitory.

I started to rummage through my bedside and first found the photo the twins sent me. To think I was blushing this morning and then the day went dead wrong.

I grabbed the box and went down.

"…You can't know that, Potter," I heard Professor McGonagall said kindly, "not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with."

Harry and Ron were standing with open mouths and looks of disbelief while Hermione was looking upside down a book.

"Here," I gave her the box. Professor McGonagall nodded and opened the box. I could feel the boys' gazes on me but I was staring down.

There was a type of silence.

"Miss Barton," her voice was dead quietly. "Are you sure you don't know who sent you this?"

I looked up. Harry and Ron were looking more astounded than before when they saw the choker. But Professor McGonagall… she was looking quite pale.

"No Ma'am."

To our surprises, she sniffed soundly and nodded a little unconvincing.

"Very well. Like I said to Potter, until we are sure these two objects are not tampered, I shall keep you both informed."

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt and the velvet box out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her.

Ron immediately rounded on Hermione.

_"What did you go running to McGonagall for?"_

Hermione stood up, facing the redhead defiantly. "Because I thought—and Professor McGonagall agrees with me—that those gifts were probably sent to Harry and Annie by Sirius Black!"


	20. A new and old Ally

This wasn't one of our best moments, I admit. Harry and Ron didn't talk to Hermione because of the Firebolt. Harry hadn't looked at me in almost a month, therefore I wouldn't talk to him. And with Ron… I don't like how he treats Hermione.

I knew why Hermione did what she did. She was worried if the Firebolt was bewitched and could suddenly kill Harry. We didn't want a repeat of our first Quidditch match.

I asked her why she thought Black would have sent the choker to me. It wasn't a very strong thought what Professor McGonagall said.

"Even if you don't like it Annie, Sirius Black is still your uncle," Hermione told me in a hushed voice once in the library. "And we both heard that You-Know-Who wanted you. Maybe Black knew it… and he wants to finish the job."

That made me pale very quickly.

So the rest of the Holidays we both were on the library or in Hagrid's hut trying to help him in Buckbeak's case.

And I needed a very important help for one specific class.

"Neville!" I was running through the courtyard looking for my round faced friend. And probably attracting too much attention. "Oi, Neville!"

"Why, Barton," shrieked Pansy Parkinson. "I didn't knew you liked fat little crybabies! Thought you were going to end with the Scarhead!"

"DAMMIT!" I screeched loudly making the Slytherin fall from her seat. I was late for Defense Against the Dark Arts!

With all my power and might, I ran to the other side of the school like if the devil himself was chasing me.

And I arrived late for class.

"Sorry Professor, I –"

"Don't worry Miss Barton," Lupin looked like hell. Almost dead actually. But he still managed a small smile. "Like I was saying…"

I took a seat besides Neville in front of Harry and Ron.

As the class ended, we gathered our things and went with Hermione outside.

"Poor Professor Lupin," Neville mumbled. I nodded. "He looks sicker than yesterday."

And the sound of something ripping brought our attention. Hermione's books fell onto the floor and she groaned. I stared at her. Those were lie fifteen books. And without counting her quill and parchment!

Both Neville and I started helping her. Though Neville, being more tall than us, keep hitting his head on the armor.

Ron and Harry passed by us to head to dinner, when we heard Ron say, "Still looks ill, doesn't he?"

Hermione let out a 'tuh' and the boys turned to us. Neville and I exchanged a look. This was going to end _so_ well.

"And what are you tutting at us for?" Ron snapped.

"Nothing," Hermione said in a lofty voice, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.

"Yes, you were," Ron said. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Lupin, and you -"

"Well, isn't it _obvious_?" Hermione asked with a look of maddening superiority.

"It is kinda obvious..." Neville said softly. Hermione and I looked at him bewildered. Harry and Ron glared.

"If you don't want to tell us, don't," Ron said.

"Fine," Hermione said and she marched off.

"She doesn't know," Ron said, staring resentfully after Hermione. "She's just trying to get us to talk to her again."

I glared at him. "If you really think that low of her Ronald, then I must say you have a very thick head!" I snapped.

Sensing danger, Neville grabbed my elbow and lead us away from them.

And once we were on the library (again), I asked him what he meant on the corridor.

"I thought you knew…" he staggered. I gave him a look. "Well, Professor Lupin is a – a,"

"A what?" I asked.

"…Werewolf…"

I know I was gaping at him, but you can't really blame me. Neville figured it out? Alone?

"You're staring…"

And so, Neville joined our little group of two.

Actually, there was benefits for the both of us. With Hermione, he had to take a lot of notes and his grades went up slowly.

I helped him in Potions, seeing as that was the class he most failed. In exchange, Neville helped me with Herbology, and I swear, Neville is a very good teacher.

And so continued the week.

We often were either on the library (Neville too) trying to help Buckbeak's case or in the common room, in the most farther and lonely corner with a lot of books.

But then Hermione started disappearing on us. The surprising thing was, we couldn't even find her in the library anymore. One time even she was with us, disappeared, and when we rounded the corner, we head-butted with her.

This year is driving me crazy.

After the Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin match, Hermione and I were in our corner when Professor McGonagall suddenly appeared and started approaching us, the Firebolt in her hand.

And she pulled from her robes the familiar velvet box.

"Everything seems right Miss Barton," I grabbed the box from her. "Try to not show it off." And with one of her rare smiles, she started to look around the common room for Harry and disappeared through the portrait hole.

I looked at Hermione. She looked up at me.

We both smiled.

Then screamed.

Jumping in our seats, we hugged each other a cried in relief.

"Why did you both screamed?" it was Neville. I noticed that nobody noticed our screams but him. All the Quidditch team was surrounding Harry and Ron. Probably McGonagall already gave him the broom.

"Because of this," I opened the box and Neville gaped at it.

We started our homework and Neville helped me on Herbology as I explained to him the method of an Animagus for the exams. But he nudged me and motioned to his right. Harry and Ron were making their way towards us with big grins.

I had the sudden urge of throw them all Hermione's books to their head for their hypocrite behavior. Those two are worse than the ones in the Orphanage!

To my sorrow, Neville somehow knows me too well and moved all the books to his side.

I pouted at him.

"I got it back," Harry said, grinning and motioning to his new broom.

"See, Hermione? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" Ron said.

"Well—there _might_ have been!" Hermione said. "I mean, at least you know it's safe!"

"Yeah, I suppose so," Harry said. "I'd better put it upstairs-"

"I'll take it!" Ron said. "I've got to give Scabbers his rat tonic."

Ron took the Firebolt gingerly from Harry and took it upstairs.

"Can I sit down, then?" Harry asked us.

"I suppose so," Hermoine said.

I tried to reach one book but Neville pinched me.

"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked.

"Oh, well—you know—working hard, and Annie and Neville have been helping me," Hermione said. Yes, we both helped her do a part of her homework, not all because she would suddenly snap.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked.

"I couldn't do that!" Hermione said.

"Arithmancy looks terrible," Harry said, picking up a chart full of numbers.

"Oh, no, it's wonderful!" Hermione said. "It's my favorite subject! It's-" a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase interrupting her. Ron came barreling into the common room, his face white as the bed sheet that he was dragging.

"LOOK!" he bellowed, striding over to Hermione's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in her face.

"Ron, what -"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Hermione was leaning away from Ron, looking utterly bewildered. Even Neville leaned away and I was staring at the sheet he carried.

There was something red. I already had seen blood on clothes to know how to identify it.

"BLOOD!" Ron yelled into the silence the common room suddenly fell. "HE'S GONE! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N - no," Hermione said, her voice trembling.

Ron threw something down on her homework and the four of us bent down to look at it.

They were ginger cat hairs.


	21. Losing

Had I already stated this year was one of crazies? Then again, there still haven't been a year with peace for us.

Hermione and Ron's friendship looked like it broke. Both of them were stony silent with each other or glared.

And she too was mad at Harry because he pointed out that it was more probably that Crookshanks ate Scabbers.

Everything was so confusing.

And the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match of Quidditch arrived. We obviously know who won. I only went because Neville made me to. The only difference was that Malfoy and his big apes tried to act like Dementors, but Harry created a silver spell and they went down. But honestly, why do I go if we always won when Harry plays?

There was a party but I preferred to go and sleep.

Of course it didn't happen.

"AHHHHH!" it was bloody scream!

All the girls quickly woke up. Even me, that sleeps like a heavy rock

"What was that?"

"Where's the canyon…?" I heard one of them mumble sleepily.

I looked at Hermione puzzled, and she shrugged, starting to put her bathrobe on. We all followed her and went downstairs.

All the third year boys were already there. Soon from other years followed.

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" Fred asked brightly as he jumped the last stair.

"Everyone back upstairs!" Percy said, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pajamas as he spoke. I least I just confirmed he doesn't sleep with that.

"Perce - Sirius Black!" Ron said faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

I inhaled sharply.

_Sirius Black was here?_

Hermione put one of her hands to her mouth and with the other, she tried to grab on me to not fall.

"Nonsense!" Percy said. "You had too much to eat, Ron - had a nightmare -"

"I'm telling you -"

"Now, really, enough's enough!" Professor McGonagall arrived too in her bathrobe, glaring furiously to all her students.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" Percy said, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to go back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare -"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

if there was anyone whispering, it definitely stopped, as all the common room stared at him horrified and in disbelief.

Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's portrait.

Glaring, McGonagall complied and went outside.

"Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" Sir Cadogan cried.

There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.

"You - you _did_?" Professor McGonagall said. "But - but the password!"

"He had 'em!" Sir Cadogan said proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

The Professor returned inside with one of the most scariest faces I had ever seen on her.

"Which person," she said, her voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

I watched sadly as Neville raised his hand on the air.

* * *

Next day, security was tight. Sir Cadogan's portrait had been removed and the Fat Lady returned, with the exception of putting more security to her. And Mr. Dumbledore put trolls outside her portrait.

To my chagrin, these two stared at me too long. Must be a troll thing. I _hope_ so.

Ron instantly became a celebrity and the more he told the story of what really happened, the more wildly it got.

Neville was banned from going to Hogsmeade, Professor McGonagall gave him detention, and no one was allowed to give him the password to the common room. So I tried to always be around him so he can enter the common room.

But the worse came two days late for him.

The school owls swooped into the Great Hall carrying the mail as usual, and Neville choked as a huge barn owl landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope clutched in its beak. I was sitting beside him and quickly put my hands on my ears.

"Run for it, Neville," I saw Ron mouth.

Taking the letter with him, Neville ran out of the Great Hall as everyone around me laughed at his misfortune. Even from here, I could hear the shrieks of his grandmother.

The Hogsmeade visit came and I stayed here this time with Neville. And when we were walking around deciding to go or not to the library we found Harry. Near the one-eyed witch statue.

"Harry! I forgot you weren't going to Hogsmeade either!" Neville said cheerfully. I looked at the statue and saw Harry holding his wand not-so-discretely.

"Hi, Neville," Harry said. "Anya," he nodded at me. He moved slowly from the statue and I caught sight of the Marauder's map.

"What are you two up to?"

"Nothing," Neville shrugged. "Want a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Er — not now — I was going to go to the library and do that vampire essay for Lupin —" I narrowed my eyes to him. He was going to Hogsmeade, I am sure of it.

"We'll come with you!" Neville said brightly looking at me and Harry. "I haven't done it either!"

"Er — hang on — yeah, I forgot, I finished it last night!"

"Great, you can help me!" s

"Neville, you know I can help you. We don't need to bother Harry," I said, but Neville suddenly gasped and I looked behind Harry.

Professor Snape was coming toward us.

"And what are you three doing here?" Snape said, coming to a halt and looking slowly at each of us. "An odd place to meet -"

"We're not — meeting here," Harry said. "We just — met here."

"Indeed? You have a habit of turning up in unexpected places, Potter, and you are very rarely there for no good reason…I suggest the three of you return to Gryffindor Tower, where you belong."

We set off in silence. Harry made an excuse that he forgot his vampire essay in the library and disappeared.

More later, Neville went alone to the library to do his essay leaving me alone with a couple of first years. Hermione arrived a little later and we both started doing some homework, until an owl started tapping the window.

Hermione got up and retrieved the note it was carrying. She ripped it open and started to read it. But as her eyes moved I could see her lip starting to tremble.

"What is it?" I asked her, dreading the answer she would give me.

She handed me the note.

_Dear Hermione and Annie,_

_We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Execution date to be fixed. Beaky has enjoyed London._

_I won't forget all the help you both gave us._

_Hagrid_

My hands balled into fists. It was Malfoy's fault. An innocent was going to die because he behaved like the little git he was.

"I'm going for him," I muttered.

"What..? Annie! Wait!"

I started walking towards the portrait. I was blinded by anger. Why him? Buckbeak didn't deserve it!

"Annie?" "ANYA!"

Both Harry and Ron were in front of me, confused as to why Hermione was shouting behind.

"Anya, don't! Don't do something rash!"

"He's going to pay, Mione!" I yelled at her.

"What's going on?" Ron asked.

Glaring at them, I gave Harry the cramped note.

"They can't do this," Harry said once he read it. "They can't. Buckbeak isn't dangerous."

"Malfoy's dad's frightened the Committee into it," Hermione said, wiping her eyes. "You know what he's like. They're a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope...Nothing will have changed."

"Yeah it will," Ron said fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I'll help."

"Oh, Ron!"

Hermione shoved past me, making me stumble into Harry as she flung her arms around Ron's neck and started sobbing. Ron actually looked terrified.

"Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers..."

"Oh - well - he was old," Ron said, looking thoroughly relieved when she let go of him. "And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."

"So, now that you both have a happy ending ("Annie!" shrieked Hermione going red), can I go and beat Malfoy's arse?" I asked sarcastically.

"No," the three of them said.


	22. I'm Sorry

Since the security of the castle didn't let students go outside, we only found time with Hagrid in Care of Magical Creatures.

"S'all my fault. Got all tongue-tied. They was all sittin' there in black robes an' I kep' droppin' me notes and forgettin' all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione and Anne. An' then Lucius Malfoy stood up an' said his bit, and the Committee jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em..."

"There's still the appeal!" Ron said fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"

We were walking back up to the castle with the rest of the class. Ahead of us, Malfoy kept looking back at us and laughed each time. My eye seriously started to twitch. I begged Hermione to let me do something to him, but she said that I don't need to get in problems because of him.

Malfoy laughed again.

My right eye twitched

"S'no good, Ron," Hagrid said sadly as we reached the castle steps. "That Committee's in Lucius Malfoy's pocket. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Beaky's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that..."

Hagrid turned around and hurried back toward his cabin, his face buried in his handkerchief.

"Look at him blubber!"

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle had been standing just inside the castle doors, listening.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" Malfoy said. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

THAT'S IT!

It seemed that we thought the same, because Hermione moved at the same time. Locking eyes, we nodded at each other and -

SMACK!

We both hit Malfoy in the face with all our strength. Malfoy staggered.

I grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled him towards us.

"Don't you ever dare to call Hagrid pathetic, you foul - you evil –"

"Hermione!" Ron called weakly, trying to grab her hand as she tried to hit Malfoy again. I was having a glaring contest with the just hit.

"Get off, Ron!" Hermione pulled out her wand.

But he wasn't looking at her.

"Now, listen here, blondie –" I started in a low and dangerous voice. "if we ever hear you call Hagrid pathetic, I myself will come after you and make you felt a really hard sensation of pain." He glared at me. I shook him. "Am I clear?"

I let go of him. He stepped backward. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him for instructions, thoroughly bewildered.

"C'mon," Malfoy muttered, and in a moment, all three of them had disappeared into the passageway to the dungeons.

I sighed.

"_Hermione!_" Ron exclaimed, looking and sounding both stunned and impressed. I didn't even care that he forgot me. That was okay. It was their little moment.

"Harry, you'd better beat him in the Quidditch final!" Hermione said. "You just better had, because I can't stand it if Slytherin wins!"

"We're due in Charms," Ron said, still staring at Hermione. "We'd better go."

Both of them started forward, but I noticed that Harry still stood there, looking at me with an odd expression.

"Are you coming?"

He blinked several times, and to my utterly confusion, he _smiled_ at _me_ and started walking too.

We hurried up the marble staircase toward Professor Flitwick's classroom.

"You're late!" Professor Flitwick said reprovingly as Harry opened the classroom door. "Come along, quickly, wands out, we're experimenting with Cheering Charms today, we've already divided into pairs - well, this _is_ a group of three. Miss Barton, why don't you pair up with Mr. Longbottom?"

I shrugged. During the time Harry and Ron didn't talk to us, Hermione usually arrived late and I was paired with Neville.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Hello."

This class Neville really surpassed himself. He performed the charm without problem and I was giggling like an idiot all the hour.

We left for lunch feeling unusually happy, all the class bearing broad smiles.

But Hermione didn't turn up all lesson. She wasn't at lunch either.

"Where's Hermione? She never misses a class!" Neville said to me.

"I am not sure," I trailed. What if Malfoy did something to her?

We both went to Divination's tower, were all the class was already united.

"I can't believe I missed Cheering Charms!" I heard someone exclaim. I sighed in relief. That was probably Hermione.

As all the class finally arrived, we climbed the ladder. In each table was a crystal ball full of pearly white mist. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I sat down together at the same rickety table of ours.

"I thought we weren't starting crystal balls until next term," Ron muttered.

"Don't complain, this means we've finished palmistry," Harry said. "I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at my hands."

"At least she doesn't cry anymore," I muttered.

"Good day to you!" Professor Trelawney said, making her entrance from the shadows as usual. "I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned. The fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice."

Hermione snorted.

"Well, honestly...'the fates have informed her'...who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" she said, not troubling to keep her voice low. I smirked.

If she heard our chocked laughs, Professor Trelawney pretended to not.

"Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art," she said dreamily. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb's infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes" - Ron began to snigger uncontrollably and had to stuff his fist in his mouth to stifle the noise - "so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class."

And I felt very stupid.

I stared blankly at the crystal ball. Ron had fits of giggles and Hermione kept tutting in the hour. Even Harry was dropping sleepily into his hands.

"Seen anything yet?" Harry asked after a quarter of an hour's quiet crystal gazing.

"Yeah, there's a burn on this table," Ron said, pointing. "Someone's spilled their candle."

"This is such a waste of time," Hermione hissed. "I could be practicing something useful. I could be catching up on Cheering Charms -"

"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?" she asked.

"I don't need help," Ron whispered. "It's obvious what this means. There's going to be loads of fog tonight."

But I still stared into the foggiest ball. It began to slowly unclear and a small and blurry figure appears in the glass, glowing dimly in the table.

It whispered something. I couldn't very well decipher it, but it sounded haunted, like in sorrow.

And when I looked more clearly, I looked a pair of mesmerizing grey eyes staring at me.

"_I'm sorry."_

The sound of kicking snapped me out of my reverie.

The class was whispering crazily and Harry and Ron were gaping at the door.

"What happened?" I asked. Both boys looked exasperatedly at me.

"Didn't you see?" Ron hissed.

"Ooooo!" Lavender said suddenly, making everyone start. "Oooooo, Professor Trelawney, I've just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, Professor? _'Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!'_ You said it _ages_ ago, Professor!"

Professor Trelawney whom was breathing heavily suddenly smiled.

"Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs...The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know..."

Lavender and Parvati looked deeply impressed, and moved over so that Professor Trelawney could join their table instead.

"Some day Hermione's having, eh?" Ron muttered to us looking awed.

"Yeah..."

I frowned. "Where's Hermione?"

And both boys looked scandalized.


	23. The Final Game

The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. We, the third years had never had so much homework. Even with a little of my help with Potions, Neville seemed ready to collapse.

And he wasn't the only one.

Hermione had much more work than us. She had like three piles of books around her and she started muttering nonsense. It really reminded me of how Muggles imagine witches to be.

True to his word, Ron immediately started working on Buckbeak's appeal. When he wasn't doing his own work, he was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like_The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology_and _Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality. _He worked hard on it that he didn't snap at Crookshanks anymore.

But the pressure continued. The final match of Gryffindor versus Slytherin finally approached us. There hadn't been a match that had been highly anticipated since probably Harry's first match. And now the Slytherins tried to trip the Gryffindor players (mostly Harry) that every single of them had to be accompanied.

And the unthinkable happened.

"I can't work," Hermione put down her books. "I can't concentrate."

It was very unbelievable that everyone who new Hermione or at least knew how bookish she was, gasped very dramatically, ending with an "It's the end of the world!" shout from the Weasley twins.

And finally the day arrived.

The day student in Hogwarts has been waiting to see with abated breath.

Ron, Hermione, Neville and I were already sitting in the Great Hall. Even Neville had painted his face with the Gryffindor colors along with Seamus.

The moment the team entered, all the houses (except Slytherin that was hissing and booing loudly) broke into an applause.

When the team got up from the table to head out to the locker rooms, Cho Chang, Ravenclaw's seeker, yelled, "Good luck, Harry!" and I saw him blush. Aw, how cute!

To show my Gryffindor spirit, I wore my new red jacket with a yellow t-shirt I found around.

I sat with Hermione in the Gryffindor section. All the stands were wearing the Gryffindor colors that the Slytherins seemed like a tiny spot in the crowd.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" Lee Jordan yelled. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years-"

The Slytherins booed loudly.

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill -"

The Slytherins booed his commentary, but he was right. Malfoy was easily the only smallest person on the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous.

Madam Hooch then blew her whistle and both teams were off. I watched as Alicia grabbed the Quaffle right away.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no—Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field—WHAM!-nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by—Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina—nice swerve around Montague—_duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger!—_SHE SCORES! TEN—ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!" Lee yelled.

"Yes!" I yelled but soon scowled as Flint smacked into her.

Fred retaliated by throwing his Beater club at Flint, who hit his broomstick handle by the force and was bleeding violently. "That will do!" Madam Hooch, the referee, shrieked. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to _their_ Chaser!"

"Come on, Alicia!" Lee chanted. "YES, SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

I watched with anticipation as Flint then took the Quaffle for a penalty shot, but to my relief, Wood saved the shot, throwing the Quaffle back into the game.

"Gryffindor in possession, no Slytherin in possession—no!—Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field—THAT WAS DELIBERATE!" Montague had blocked Katie and grabbed her head instead of the Quaffle, causing her to do a cartwheel in midair, but at least she managed to stay on her broom as well as gain another penalty. "THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING—"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way-" Professor McGonagall said.

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!" Lee said.

But Hermione gasped and we both saw Harry shot off towards the Slytherin end of the field, Malfoy following. A bludger almost hit Harry. The Slytherin Beaters raced to intercept him but Harry flew upwards, causing them to slam into one another.

"Ha haaa!" Lee yelled. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle—Flint alongside her—poke him in the eye, Angelina!-it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke—oh no—Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save-"

But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor, in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession -"

This game turned into one of the dirtiest ever. And it wasn't just the Slytherins, the Gryffindors too.

We gained more points. Fifty-ten, Fred and George were swooping around Katie, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.

Madam Hooch was beside herself.

"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"

And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal - seventy-ten.

Malfoy pulled another trick by grabbing hold of Harry's Firebolt and pulling it back, keeping him from getting to the Snitch.

This earned Gryffindor another penalty shot.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM! YOU FILTHY, CEATING B-" Lee said, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's way, but he didn't even have to bother. Professor McGonagall was too busy shouting in Malfoy's direction, and somehow looked crazy with her lopsided hat. Alicia had the Quaffle to take the penalty shot, but she missed out of anger.

They Slytherins were ecstatic at the missed point.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal—Montague scores-" Lee groaned. "Seventy—twenty to Gryffindor...Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!"

The Slytherins headed up to the field towards Angelina, trying to block her, until Harry flew towards the Slytherins. Screaming, they ended scattered.

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES!" Lee shouted, as Angelina threw the Quaffle and scored. "Gryffindor leads by eighty points to twenty!"

At that moment, I could see the Snitch, but Malfoy did too.

"COME ON, HARRY! KNOCK HIM OUT OF THE WAY!" Ron screamed as Harry raced towards the Snitch, desperation on his face as he flew faster and faster until he had reached Malfoy and knocked his arm out of the way just in time to grasp the Snitch.

Everyone stood in complete silence –

"WE WON!" yelled someone below us. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws screamed their heads off.

Hermione and I lost it completely. We screamed so hard and we both hugged Ron, keeping him squeezed between us. But he didn't mind, seeing as he too was screaming at the top of his lungs.

I saw Harry on the teams' shoulders, holding the cup, waving it around, and Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were chanting, "_We've won the cup! We've won the cup!"_

This was a moment of happiness. A day to not worry about mass murderers or death cases.

A day in which we could still remember we are kids.


	24. Exams become suffer

It were the more beautiful days I had ever seen. As June approached, the sky turned an amazing shade of blue and there were no clouds to hide it. One could go outside and stroll in the grounds, or even fancy a good sleep in the gardens and watch the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake.

But let's be honest here. We weren't that lucky to really do those things like have a _"peaceful day"._

The exams too came quickly, and all the students were inside on their dormitories, the library or the Great Hall, studying.

The word itself was mere suffer for us.

This year had a lot of surprises, thinking of it.

First Sirius Black is trying to kill Harry. Second, I discover he's my uncle. Third, Hermione went wild.

And the Fourth one is a very shocking one.

Ron and I went to the library. He, to look for more information for Buckbeak's appeal. Me, a new book for Herbology.

And we just passed a table when I heard Ron mutter in utter disbelief.

"No Bloody way!"

And so bloody was.

In that single table rested dozens of books that nearly matched Hermione's obsession with all her classes. More, even.

Do you know who were the responsible of such an act?

"SHHHH!", "Don't nag!"

They were Fred and George.

They were taking their OWL's (Ordinary Wizarding Levels) and they didn't want Mrs. Weasley shouting at them for not passing their classes.

A week from that strange moment passed. Harry and Ron did the hard task of discover how Hermione was managing to attend several classes at once, but it was in vain. Either she glared, snapped or used excuses, they never found out. Ron even tried me to ask her myself.

"Don't. She's never going to tell us," I had said as an excuse, but they had sparked my curiosity as to how really _did _she manage.

One morning more nearer to the exams, we caught sight of her hand made schedule.

_Monday_

_9 o'clock, Arithmancy_

_9 o'clock, Transfiguration_

_Lunch_

_1 o'clock, Charms_

_1 o'clock, Ancient Runes_

"Hermione?" Ron said cautiously, terrified to be yelled. Again. "Er - are you sure you've copied down these times right?"

"What?" Hermione snapped, picking up the exam schedule and examining it. "Yes, of course I have."

"Is there any point asking how you're going to sit for two exams at once?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading," Ron said, but very quietly. Hermione started shifting heaps of parchment around on her table, looking for the book. Just then, there was a rustle at the window and Hedwig suddenly swooped in with a note in his beak.

"It's from Hagrid," Harry said, ripping the note open. "Buckbeak's appeal—it's set for the sixth."

"That's the day we finish our exams," Hermione said, still looking for her book.

"And they're coming up here to do it," Harry said, still looking at the note. "Someone from the Ministry of Magic and—and an executioner."

I dropped my book. I looked at him in horror.

"What?" I exclaimed.

"They're bringing the executioner to the appeal! But that sounds as though they've already decided!"

"Yeah, it does," Harry said slowly.

"They can't!" Ron said. "I've spent _ages_ reading up on stuff for him; they can't just ignore it all!"

"Apparently, they will," I whispered. I had a horrible feeling in my gut.

Exam week began and an unnatural hush fell over the castle. Us third years emerged from Transfiguration at lunchtime on Monday, very white ashen, comparing results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks we had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a tortoise. Hermione was fussing over and over fussing about how her tortoise had looked more like a turtle, which was the least of everyone else's worries.

Then, after a hasty lunch, it was straight back upstairs for the Charms exam. I think I did well because Neville was smiling all the hour. Harry however may have overdid his as Ron fell into a fit of hysterical laughter and had to go outside until he calmed.

After dinner, we hurried back to our common room, not to relax, but to start studying for Care of Magical Creatures, Potions, and Astronomy.

Care of Magical Creatures however didn't present a challenge at all. Hagrid just gave each student a flobberworm and told us we passed if the flobberworm lived until the hour ended.

"Beaky's gettin' a bit depressed," Hagrid told us looking depressed, bending low on the pretense of checking that Harry's flobberworm was still alive. "Bin cooped up too long. But still...we'll know day after tomorrow - one way or the other -"

Potions however was easier than I thought. Snape ordered us to create a Confusing Concoction and the class when smoothly. Like I had somehow expected, Professor Snape was almost breathing on Neville's neck every time he passed his table, scribbling here and there in that chart of his.

But sweating and breathing slowly, Neville managed to make that potion without an explosion in the process.

Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which I scribbled everything Natasha had explained to me about the Witch hunts in the states, specifically in Salem, Massachusetts.

Wednesday afternoon was for Herbology. Professor Sprout had us looking at very different and unknown plants under the glare of the sun. I think I got a sunburn on my neck, but it would be worth it if I passed it.

Our second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of us had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where we had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish our way across a patch of march while ignoring misleading directions from a hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new boggart.

I did almost perfectly – got a few scratches from the grindylow – until I got to a trunk.

And there she was. Awaiting for me. Those maddened black holes somewhat hidden by long eyelashes were staring through me with a morbid smile. This time instead of ragged torn clothes, she was wearing an elegant sleeveless black Victorian dress and her usually gaunt face seemed more alive with a rosy tinge on her cheeks. Her black curly hair flood with the wind, a little of it hiding her forehead. An almost arrogant beauty surrounded her.

A deadly creature to me.

"My, my," she smiled arrogantly. "Still here? Alive?" she cackled. I started hyperventilating. _You can do this. You know you can._

"Oh, but you are too scared to actually try to stop me," the woman said._ She can hear me. "_Of course I can, you stupid blood traitor prat!"

I glared at her.

"But…do you want to know a little dirty secret?" she smiled cruelly. "I can take everything you have. Starting with your friends. I think the Mudblood would be a good start."

"SHUT UP!" I roared, pointing my wand at her. The spell was in the tip of my tongue. _Just say it…_

"And I _can_ do it, because _you_ can't stop me. I will break every single thing that makes you _feel_."

And she started laughing. The same high pitched cold laugh that has been on my mind this year.

My right eye started to twitch. She thinks I am like a porcelain doll? Something made of glass that can break so easily?

Anger started fueling inside me.

Red. All I saw was red.

And her.

"_RIDDIKULUS!" _the boggart exploded and its place was replaced by dust.

Breathing heavily, I looked curiously at it. I suppose it's still alive.

Shrugging, I went towards Professor Lupin.

"Congratulations," he smiled sadly. Obviously he knew what I did to the boggart, and I think he reduced a few points for it.

Harry, whom already had finished, looked at me questioningly.

"So? How did it go?"

I didn't say anything. I nervously, almost hysterically, played with my hands.

"I saw her," I blurted out. Harry looked puzzled but soon understanding ran through his face. He didn't say anything but he pulled me to his side and gave me one armed hug.

We watched as other students ended slowly the obstacles. Ron did very well until he reached the hinkypunk, which successfully confused him into sinking waist-high into the quagmire. Hermione did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the boggart in it. After about a minute inside it, she burst out again, screaming.

"Hermione!" Lupin was startled. "What's the matter?"

"P - P - Professor McGonagall!" Hermione gasped, pointing into the trunk. "Sh - she said I'd failed everything!"

I gaped at her. That was her fear?

It took a while to calm Hermione down. When at last she had regained a grip on herself, she, Harry, Ron, and I went back to the castle. Ron looked like he was bursting to laugh out loud about her boggart, but he wisely kept his mouth shut.

A rare sight meet us at the top of the stairs.

The Minister of Magic was standing there.

"Hello there, Harry!" he said. "Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?"

"Yes," Harry said. Ron, Hermione, and I all hung back awkwardly, not being on speaking terms with the man.

"Lovely day," the Minister said. "Pity...pity...I'm here on an unpleasant mission, Harry. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad hippogriff. As I needed to visit Hogwarts to check on the Black situation, I was asked to step it."

"Does that mean the appeal's already happened?" Ron interrupted. Hermione looked at him warningly.

"No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon," the Minister said, looking curiously at Ron.

"Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!" Ron said. "The hippogriff might get off!"

Before Fudge could answer, two wizards came through the castle doors behind him. One was so ancient he appeared to be withering before our very eyes; the other was tall and strapping, with a thin black mustache. I gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, because the very old wizard squinted toward Hagrid's cabin and said in a feeble voice, "Dear, dear, I'm getting too old for this...Two o'clock, isn't it, Fudge?"

The black-mustached man was fingering something in his belt; I glanced down and saw that he was running one broad thumb along the blade of a shining axe. I opened my mouth to say something, but I received a hard nudge from Hermione and she jerked her head towards the entrance Hall. R on did the same and Hermione stuck again.

"Why'd you stop me?" Ron said angrily at her once the four of us walked away.

"Yes, did you see the size of that thing? They already have it prepared!" I said angrily too.

"Ron, you dad works for the Ministry, you can't go saying things like that to his boss!" Hermione said, but she too looked very upset. "And you Annie, remember that Miss Rosenberg still isn't your guardian. He could stop the paper work if he wanted to." I paled at that. "As long as Hagrid keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can't possibly execute Buckbeak..."

But Hermione didn't look as she actually believed what she herself said.

Harry's, Ron's and my last exam was Divination, Hermione's Muggle Studies. She left us on the first floor and the three of us went all the way up to the seventh, where many of our classmates were sitting on the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney's classroom, trying to study a bit more.

"She's seeing us all separately," Neville informed us as we went to sit down next to him. He had his copy of _Unfogging the Future_ open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing. "Have any of you ever seen _anything_ in a crystal ball?" he asked us unhappily.

I looked away from him. The memory of those gray eyes with a sorry look went back to my mind. Did that one counts in?

"Nope," Ron said in an offhand voice. He kept checking his watch as the students disappeared one by one.

As each of them finished everyone asked, "What did she ask? Was it okay?"

But none of them answered.

"She says the crystal ball's told her that if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" Neville squeaked to us.

"What a cheater," I said.

"That's convenient," Ron snorted. "You know, I'm starting to think Hermione was right about her" - he jabbed his thumb toward the trapdoor overhead - "she's a right old fraud."

"Yeah," Harry said as he looked at his watch. "Wish she'd hurry up..."

Later Parvati came back down glowing with pride.

"She says I've got all the makings of a true Seer," she said. "I saw _loads_ of stuff...Well, good luck!" and went towards Lavender.

"Ronald Weasley," came the familiar, misty voice from over our heads. Grimacing, Ron climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Harry and I were now the only people left to be tested. We settled ourselves on the floor with our backs against the wall. A fly buzzed near my ear. I tried to smack it, but no luck.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ron reappeared.

"How'd it go?" Harry asked him.

"Rubbish," Ron said. "Couldn't see a thing, so I made some stuff up. Don't think she was convinced, though..."

"Meet you in the common room," Harry muttered as Professor Trelawney's voice called, "Anya Barton!"

I swear to God it was hotter than before. All the curtains were closed and the smoke from the alight fire made me cough roughly.

Professor Trelawney sat waiting for me before a large crystal ball.

"Good day, my dear," she said softly. "If you would kindly gaze into the Orb... Take your time, now...then tell me what you see within it..."

I bent over the crystal ball and stared hard at it. Would I see the same eyes that begged for forgiveness?

"Well?" Professor Trelawney prompted delicately. "What do you see?"

"Patience…" I mumbled. "It's a virtue…"

The Professor nodded. I think she got rather attached to me because I am superstitious.

Slowly, a shape began to form. The sight of a mask caught me off guard.

"I see – a mask. A white one."

"What else, dear?"

Another figure crept there. The shape of a man.

"A man appeared – but it doesn't seem like a man," I said. "Is shorter actually. So I assume is a boy."

Professor Trelawney nodded. "What are they doing?"

My eyes traveled across the scene quickly. "A lot of masks – they are surrounding him. He has no escape."

A flash of gold blinded me. I gasped.

"What?" Trelawney asked urgently.

"There – there was a flash. A bright gold light, and – and –"

"Yes?" she scribbled keenly on her parchment.

"The scene changed…" I whispered. "I – I see…"

A new set of eyes stared at me. Instead of grey, I saw blue. And there was no forgiveness asked, but mercy.

"Blue eyes… mercy…"

And the mist swirled, a new shape transformed in front of me.

I narrowed my eyes in concentration. The image is beginning to get blurry.

"Miss Barton…?"

"Another shape has appeared. But I can't distinguish it – its blurry, and –"

Everything went white.

It disappeared.

"It's gone."

Professor Trelawney looked curious and she scribbled something else on the parchment.

"Miss Barton, the mask you mentioned – the white one, have you seen it before?"

I shook my head.

"What about those blue eyes? Do you have a friend with those eye colors?"

"I – I am not sure." I breathed heavily. "I don't feel well."

Professor Trelawney nodded and scribbled something more.

"That was quite interesting, Miss Barton. I'm going to have a wild guess and daresay that, what you saw, it could possibly be the future."

"But what does it mean?" I whispered.

Trelawney peered at me over her big glasses, remembering me Mr. Dumbledore doing the same.

"Only time can say."


	25. Execution

With a good luck to Harry, I went directly to our common room.

But the moment I entered, something hit my head!

Ron laughed.

"It's not funny, Ron!" I yelled.

"It was."

Hermione instead of paying us attention, just leaned over for the accused object that hit me. It was a note.

"It's from Hagrid!" she exclaimed. Our ranting stopped and we both looked over her shoulder as she read.

_Lost appeal. They're going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it._

_Hagrid_

"_Oh, merde!" _I let out a series of French curses I heard from Mrs. Darcy this last summer. Ron looked up started and Hermione in her tears, scowled.

"Annie, don't curse," she mumbled. Ron watched me awed.

But the surprise of my curses just lasted a moment. Settling ourselves in our favorite corner, we started to mourn the news.

Ten minutes later, a slightly flushed Harry entered the common room, looking around until he found us.

"Professor Trelawney," Harry panted, "just told me -"

But he stopped abruptly at the sight of our faces.

"Buckbeak lost," Ron said weakly. "Hagrid's just sent this."

Harry read the note and a shocked look crossed his face before a determined one came.

"We've got to go," Harry said at once. "He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"

"Sunset, though," Ron stared at the window with a sort of glazed way. "We'd never be allowed…'specially you, Harry…"

Harry sank his head into his hands.

"If we only had the Invisibility Cloak…"

"Where is it?" Hermione asked.

Harry told what happened the day we and Neville met Snape. He left it in the passageway under the one-eyed witch.

"…if Snape sees me anywhere near there again, I'm in serious trouble," he finished.

"That's true," Hermione said, getting to her feet. "If he sees you…How do you open the witch's hump again?"

"You — you tap it and say, '_Dissendium_, but —"

Hermione didn't wait for the rest of his sentence; she strode across the room, pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait and vanished from sight.

Ron gaped after her. Harry sat there, trying to figure out what happened. And I wondered how come Hermione runs fast?

"She hasn't gone to get it?" Ron said.

And she did. Fifteen minutes later, she arrived with the Invisibility Cloak under her robes.

"Hermione, I don't know what's gotten, into you lately!" Ron said, astounded. "First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney —"

Hermione looked rather flattered.

We went down to dinner with everyone else, but after dinner was over, we didn't go back up to Gryffindor Tower. We went off into an empty room right off the entrance hall, and listened at the door to make sure it was clear.

When it was clear, Hermione poked her head out the door just to make sure.

"Okay, no one there—cloak on-," she said.

We walked very closer so nobody could see us. It was hard, but we managed. We crossed the hall on tiptoe beneath the cloak, then walked down the stone front steps into the grounds.

We reached Hagrid's cabin and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor, pale-faced and trembling.

"It's us," Harry hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cloak. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Hagrid whispered, but he stood back, and we stepped inside. Hagrid shut the door quickly and Harry pulled off the cloak.

Hagrid was not crying. Instead, he just sat again and stared blankly at us.

I preferred him sobbing and howling rather than this.

"Wan' some tea?" he said. His great hands were shaking as he reached for the kettle.

"Where's Buckbeak, Hagrid?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"I - I took him outside," Hagrid said, spilling milk all over the table as he filled up the jug. "He's tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an' - an' smell fresh air - before -"

Hagrid's hand trembled so violently that the milk jug slipped from his grasp and shattered all over the floor.

"I'll do it, Hagrid," Hermione said, going over to clean up the mess.

"There's another one in the cupboard," Hagrid said, sitting down and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. The rest of us shared a hopeless glance.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore-"

"He's tried," Hagrid said. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Buckbeak's all right, but they're scared...Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy's like...threatened 'em, I expect...an' the executioner, Macnair, he's an old pal o' Malfoy's...but it'll be quick an' clean...an' I'll be beside him..."

Hagrid stopped and looked around, as if somewhere inside this cabin could give him comfort.

"Dumbledore's gonna come down while it - while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Said he wants ter - ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore..."

As I more looked a Hagrid, it broke my heart to see him like this. He and Buckbeak didn't deserve this. If just that stupid Slytherin hadn't offended the hippogriff!

And I felt something wet on my cheek. A single tear had rolled down.

I didn't cry. This year I had unshed a lot of single tears, breaking down when I found out about my mother. I cried so hard that night that I thought I wouldn't cry ever again.

I guess I was wrong.

"We'll stay with you too, Hagrid," I said rather bravely. Was I sure I wanted to watch an innocent die?

"You'll do no such thing!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Think I wan' yeh seein' a thing like that? No. Yeh'll drink yer tea an' be off," Hagrid sighed. "But before yeh do - I wan' ter see you an' Annie shake hands, Harry."

Harry and I looked at each other and we both then look at Hagrid.

"Thin' I haven' seen 'ow it's bin betw'n you two?" Harry flushed in embarrassment. I think he remembers _he_ was the one who has being impolite. "Go on now..."

A little reluctantly, he extends his hand. I eyed him, and sighing, I shake it.

"Good. Now then. Ron, I wan' ter see you give Hermione a hug."

"WHAT!" the two yell. Harry sniggered and I watch their horrified expression in amusement.

"Go on! You two've been at it all year. An' I'm sick o' it," Hagrid said firmly, watching the two.

I smiled as Hermione and Ron, looking extremely uncomfortable, stepped forward and performed perhaps the most awkward hug Hogwarts has ever seen.

Once separating, Hermione quickly returned to her chore of the tea.

"Crikey, tha's jus' about' the most pathetic hug I e'er seen."

A shriek made us look at Hermione, whom had a very shocked face.

"Ron! I - I don't believe it - it's _Scabbers_!"

Ron gaped at her.

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked.

Hermione carried the milk jug over to the table and turned it upside down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat came sliding out onto the table. I narrowed my eyes at the rat. I could feel there was something wrong with it, and it wasn't the fact that it looked like he was on the verge of death.

"Scabbers!" Ron said. "Scabbers, what are you doing here?"

He grabbed the struggling rat and held him up to the light, confirming my thoughts about the pet looking dreadful.

Hagrid suddenly stood up, his eyes fixed on the window. His face turned a very pale white.

"They're comin'..."

We whipped around. A group of men was walking down the distant castle steps. In front was Mr. Dumbledore, his silver bread gleaming in the dying sun, yet a solemn shadow fell over his face. Next to him was Cornelius Fudge. Behind the two of them, walked McNair, his axe in hand, and I'm infuriated to see he had a twisted and disgusting smile of satisfaction.

"Yeh gotta go," Hagrid said. Every inch of him was trembling. "They mustn' find yeh here...Go now..."

Ron stuffed Scabbers into his pocket and Hermione picked up the cloak.

"I'll let yeh out the back way," Hagrid said.

We followed him to the door into his back garden. Buckbeak seemed to know something was happening. He turned his sharp head from side to side and pawed the ground nervously.

"It's okay, Beaky," Hagrid said softly. "It's okay..." He turned to Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I. "Go on," he said. "Get going."

We tried to protest but Hagrid ushered us away.

As the Ministry members entered the hut through the front, the four of us left, hurrying rapidly towards the castle. I wanted to be there for Hagrid, but a little part of my mind didn't want to see anyone die.

Not again.

"Please, let's hurry," Hermione whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it..."

We started up the sloping lawn toward the castle. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged grey, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow. It was really a beautiful sight I could only see on my dreams. But Buckbeak was going to die under it.

Ron suddenly stopped.

"Oh, please, Ron," Hermione said.

"It's Scabbers—he won't—stay put-" Ron said, struggling with the rat, who was going mad, twisting and trying to escape.

"Scabbers, it's me, you idiot, it's Ron," Ron hissed.

"Ron, hurry!" I whispered.

We heard a door open behind us and men's voice.

"Oh, Ron, please let's move, they're going to do it!" Hermione breathed.

"Okay - Scabbers, stay _put_ -"

We walked forward, trying to ignore the mumble of voices behind us.

"I can't hold him - Scabbers, shut up, everyone'll hear us -"

The rat was squealing wildly, but not loudly enough to cover up the sounds drifting from Hagrid's garden. There was a jumble of indistinct male voices, a silence, and then, without warning, the unmistakable swish and thud of an axe.

I gasped.

_No._

Hermione dangerously bended over and I had to catch her arm to maintain her in her foot.

"They did it!" she whispered hoarsely. "I d - don't believe it - they did it!"

And yet, I could.


	26. An Unexpected Attack

_Sirius Black's POV_

Today was the day.

I couldn't wait. The waiting was so desperate. I needed to kill Pettigrew sooner or later. That bastard rat was going to pay for everything.

But once my annoying sister - god bless her soul - of mine said and I quote, _"Something always gets in our way. Must be because we are the _good _guys." _

How right she was.

First: I finally found that bloody traitor. Thanks to _Fudge_. The man we always criticized because for his lack of nerve - and intelligence, lack of handsomeness, lack of stature, lack of nice robes, etc., etc.

James must be laughing his ass off somewhere up there. I'm sure of it.

Two: I found my only family alive, my godson Harry, and my niece, Anya. Oh, right, let's not forget Andy. But she probably hates me in this moment. And there's Narcissa. But she's a _Malfoy_, so she's automatically discredited. And certainly, I give a bloody thing about Bellatrix.

Three: I escape and try to see Harry in my Animagus form. And I scared him and he was nearly over run by the Knight Bus.

Four: the Ministry send Dementors off for my head. I still think they are some really strange perverted creatures. I mean, who desires a bloody kiss with those horrid cloaks? Of course, I'm Sirius Black. The girls (and some boys) always want me.

Well, _used _to want me.

The thing I don't understand is as to how they managed to get the idea that I wanted to kill Harry.

Lily was right. Wizards were such drama queens.

Five: it was one of the Hogsmeade weekends. One of the first chances to kill Pettigrew. Nearly all the students went out of the castle, it was less probably someone would catch me. I entered in my Animagus form and went to the Gryffindor common room. I still can't believe the Fat Lady is still there. She must have remembered me too, as she yelled so loudly at the mere sight of me. She has bloody well strong lungs, I must say.

To shut her up, I may have been too harsh. I quickly ripped her portrait and she fled towards the one with a hippo. Oops, my bad.

Six: I try to watch Harry again in his first Quidditch game of the season. And he nearly dies falling off his broom.

Seven: I met a cat. Crookshanks it was? Well, he didn't trust me. In fact, he bit me! And there's a reason as to why I don't like cats.

Either way, I slowly gained his trust and I confided my story – the truth – about what happened that Halloween night to him. To my surprise, the feline decided to help my cause. _Maybe cats weren't so bad after all…_

A night like no other, the ginger one returned. He had with him a piece of parchment. "What's this?" I had asked. The cat gave his version of an annoyed grunt and pointed to a certain word. _Passwords._

And so, I not so secretly went to the Gryffindor Tower. Again. Instead, there was a knight. I nearly laughed. The amount of times I had heard of Sir Cadogan and I certainly didn't believe he was off his rocker. Not even when Moony said it to me.

I as politely as I could all the passwords to him. They were very strange words. Some of them I had never heard at all.

So I went to the boys' dormitory. Everyone here snores, did you know? I walked past Harry's bed, not looking at him, knowing that if I did, I wouldn't be able to stop looking at him. The Weasley boy had his curtains closed. I had imagined that he slept with the slimy rat. I just shudder to think about that.

I pulled out a knife I found in some Muggle house (hey, don't look at me like that! I was hungry!) And I started cutting the curtains slowly.

But the bastard wasn't here.

There was another detail of course.

The Weasley boy was awake.

And there went another plan.

But like I explained since the very beginning, this was my last chance. I appeared in my dog form and waited until they approached. It wasn't just the Weasley boy and the rat, but Harry too, along with Anya, and a bushy haired girl.

The memory of the Marauders came to my mind, but I do not think that name quite fits them.

Crookshanks had slowly sneaked on them and made Peter run to the Whomping Willow, where I was. The Weasley boy followed him out of nowhere.

_They are using James's Invisibility cloak. _

Desperate, another figure followed him. The way she ran, her appearance and her determination, were definitely a part of Ren. Anya was the image alive from her mother. Except her eyes. Those were the same as Alec.

"Oh! Just get a hold on him!" I heard her snap. Yes, definitely her mother's temper. Harry and the bushy haired girl appeared alarmed.

"Ron — Annie — come on back under the cloak —" the girl panted. "Dumbledore — the Minister — they'll be coming back out in a minute—"

_Show time._

* * *

_Anya's POV_

I stared transfixed at Hagrid's hut. They did it. They killed him. An innocent creature was murdered.

_Don't cry. Do not cry. You already have cried enough, _the voice on my mind said.

Silence. And in a moment, howling ran through the air. My heart cracked up. It was Hagrid.

"Hagrid," Harry muttered. He suddenly turned around to go back, but I quickly grabbed the back of his shirt. Harry struggled and glared at me, but I ignored him.

"We can't," Ron said, wrestling with Scabbers to stay put. "He'll be in worse trouble if they know we've been to see him..."

"How - could - they?" Hermione choked. "How _could_ they?"

"Because they have no heart," I mumbled absently.

"Come on," Ron said, having finally manage to get a hold on Scabbers.

We set off back toward the castle, walking slowly to keep ourselves hidden under the cloak. The light was fading fast now. By the time we reached open ground, darkness was settling like a spell around us.

"Scabbers, keep still," Ron hissed, clamping his hand over his chest. The rat was wriggling madly. Ron came to a sudden halt, trying to force Scabbers deeper into his pocket. "What's the matter with you, you stupid rat? Stay still - OUCH! He bit me!"

"Ron, be quiet!" Hermione whispered urgently. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute -"

"He won't - stay - put -"

Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Ron's grip.

"What's the _matter_ with him?"

"Crookshanks!" Hermione said. I looked to our other side and saw the ginger feline sneaking slowly on us.

"No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!" I whispered harshly, trying to shoo him with my hand.

But the cat continued walking and –

"Scabbers—NO!"

The rat had finally freed himself. Crookshanks took off after him and before we could stop him, so did Ron.

I growled frustrated. Without thinking, without hearing Hermione's and Harry shouts, I blindly followed Ron.

"Get away from him—get away—Scabbers, come _here_—_Gotcha!_ Get off, you stinking cat-"

There was a loud thud.

"Gotcha! Get off, you stinking cat —"

I fell to my knees and tried to take a hold of Crookshanks, but he was sinking his claws on Ron's maroon sweater with a surprising strength.

A second later, both Hermione and Harry appeared right in front of us. I finally grabbed Crookshanks with my hands, and I shoved him away from us.

Ron was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers still was struggling on his hands.

"Oh! Just get a hold on him!" I snapped.

Finally I grabbed Scabbers with both hands and put him over my pocket, to contain him.

"Ron — Annie — come on back under the cloak —" Hermione panted. "Dumbledore — the Minister — they'll be coming back out in a minute—"

But she stopped as we heard the sound of pounding paws.

I looked up. I paled.

I had the sudden urge to throw up.

Coming from the shadows was a big black dog.

_The Grim._

Everything became a blur.

I caught sight of grey and black, and then I felt an agonizing pain on my left arm.

Screaming, I was dragged across the ground like a rag doll. I barely saw Harry grabbing a lot of black fur from the dog and Ron trying to hold onto my waist. He tried to dig his feet to the ground to slow us down, but we were rolling too quickly.

"HELP!"

_SNAP!_

Then I saw Harry disappear.

I whimpered. Was it because I was hurt or because I was scared, dunno. I was sure though, that we were fighting a useless battle.

Clearly, the dog was going to be the winner.

I raised my head a little and saw a tunnel. We half entered when Ron somehow stopped us, hooking his foot around a root.

It didn't last.

With a crack that revoltingly sounded like a gunshot, Ron screamed in pain and we both stumbled into darkness. The echoes of our names sounding distant to me.

I couldn't certainly see anything. The dog was dragging us up to the other side of the tunnel, and there was barely light here. Ron was whimpering in pain, still having a hold on my waist. My face and back was being scratched with the tiny rocks laying on the ground.

Where we were going? Why did the dog attack us? What the hell is going on, exactly?

Soon, we found ourselves in a disordered and dusty room. The paper from the walls was peeling, stains were all over the floor, and it looked as every furniture around here was destroyed, the windows seemed to be boarded up.

The black dog dragged us to a room on the second floor, Ron moaning as every step made his leg move. There was a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings, and the dog led us at the end of the bed.

I breathed slowly. To my left, Ron was moaning more.

"Let me get you up," I murmured. It was difficult to do, seeing as Ron was taller and apparently heavier too, but I managed to get him to the bed.

Ron gasped and paled at the same time.

"Annie –"

I looked to where he was pointing terrified and I felt myself pale too.

"Impossible…"

There was no dog anymore. Instead in his place, a man with a mass of filthy, matted hair that hung to his elbows and his waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it resembled a skull.

But there was no mistake on those shining grey eyes.

He was Sirius Black.

My murderous uncle.


	27. The Shrieking Shack truth

Quickly, I searched into my pocket for my wand.

"Looking for something?" his voice was hoarse, as if he hadn't talked for years. For all I know, it could be.

I cursed. He had both my wand and Ron's.

"Harry and Hermione," Ron gasped, grasping my elbow and dragging me closer to him. "Are – are going to get the teachers - and Dumbledore is going to send you back – to Azkaban!"

But I thought quickly the logical on that statement.

"If he's like I expect, I doubt there's going to be any teacher here," rasped Black.

Even if I hate it, Black was right. Harry was stupid enough to come himself for us.

I glared at everything I saw, trying to not let my fear show.

Crookshanks suddenly walked in.

"You're just like her."

I snapped my head towards Black. He already walked to a corner, Crookshanks following, and was gazing at us – with what – worry? Pity?

"You look like her… your mother," he said. He had this sad gaze. Did Black remembered my mum?

I glared at him. But not with enough hate like I do to Malfoy. There was something that distracted me in those eyes. Was I hoping that they were the same ones on Divination?

"Hence, I look like you!" I spat.

They must be only a distraction.

Black recoiled back like if he was wounded, and opened his mouth to say something but the door banged open and Harry and Hermione rushed in.

"Ron, Annie! You're both alright!" Hermione exclaimed. I nodded, but didn't look away from my uncle's eyes.

"Where's the dog?" Harry demanded. Black looked somewhat smug to see he was right, Harry _did_ come.

"Not a dog," Ron moaned.

"Harry, you need to get out," I said harshly.

"It's a trap –"

"What -"

_"He's the dog...he's an Animagus..."_

Ron stared over Harry's shoulder. Harry wheeled around. In one movement, Black closed the door.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ he croaked, pointing my wand at us. Harry's and Hermione's wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. He took a step closer, eyes fixed on Harry.

"I thought you'd come and help your friends," he said. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful...it will make everything much easier..."

Suddenly Harry started to dart forward, but Hermione caught him around his waist and kept him back. I stood up and walked in front of Harry, covering him from Black's gaze.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" Ron said through gritted teeth, as he tried to stand up. He was already pale, but the effort took almost all the color from his face and he swayed like he was going to pass out.

There it was, again. A flick of worry shone on Black's eyes.

"Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You'll damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all four of us!"

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and to my shock, he looked at Ron with a maddened grin.

"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Ron, and Hermione, and to pass me. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew…What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared and he shoved me away.

"Harry!" I yelled. Harry lunged forward. But Black didn't even react as Harry grabbed his wrist with the wands, or when he punched him in the head making them fell backward.

Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Sirius's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harry's face by inches; the shrunken arm under his fingers twisted madly, but I could see him clinging on, his other hand punching every part of Black it could find.

But Sirius's free hand had found Harry's throat.

"No," he hissed, "I've waited too long -"

The fingers tightened and I heard Harry choke, his glasses askew.

Then, Hermione's foot swung out of nowhere. Sirius let out a grunt of pain and released Harry; Ron had thrown himself on Sirius' wand hand and I saw the three wands roll across the floor –

I quickly darted over and grabbed them.

"NO YOU DON'T!" Crookshanks was making his way towards me but Harry kicked him. He quickly grabbed his own wand from me and yelled, "Get out of the way!"

Hermione with a bleeding lip complied. Ron crawled to the four-poster bed and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching at his broken leg. I walked backwards a little but still enough closer to Harry. I gave Hermione and Ron their wands.

Sirius was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointed straight at Sirius' heart.

"Going to kill me, Harry?" I heard him whisper.

Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Sirius' chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Sirius' left eye and his nose was bleeding.

"You killed my parents," Harry said, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady. "You even let him kill your own sister!"

I glared at Harry. Good point to bring my mother on this Potter!

Black stared up at him out of his sunken eyes.

"I don't deny it… I really am guilty of what happened to Ren…" he swallowed. "But if you knew the whole story - "

"The whole story?" Harry repeated, a furious pounding in his ears. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

_We need to hear, not to see. _That little voice said.

"You've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't…You don't understand…"

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum…trying to stop Voldemort killing me…and you did that…you did it…"

Before either of them could say another word, something ginger streaked past Harry; Crookshanks leapt onto Sirius' chest and settled himself there, right over his heart. Sirius blinked and looked at the cat.

"Get off," he murmured, trying to push Crookshanks off him.

But Crookshanks sank his claws into Sirius' robes and wouldn't shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harry and looked up at him with those great yellow eyes. Behind me, Hermione gave a dry sob.

Harry stared hard at Black and Crookshanks, his wand menacingly on the air. I took a step further.

"Annie, no," Hermione whispered harshly.

I ignored her and instead grabbed Harry's hand. He looked over his shoulder and glared at me, still pointing his wand.

"Tell me, Harry," I said in a low voice. "Do you really want to do it? Do you really have the guts to kill him in vengeance? Do you really want to become the same thing he is? If you kill him," I sighed. "You will only demonstrate that you're the same. You will fall low."

I know it didn't sound as deep as I wanted to, but they managed to do their expected expression.

Green eyes didn't look away from mine. I know he was doubting with what I said. Kill Black and revenge his parents, becoming the thing he really hates now. Or not kill him and let Black kill us all and later escape.

It was a hard decision. I too hated this man, but I wouldn't let Harry kill him.

Harry pointed and lowered his wand, doing the same motion like five times more.

"Don't lose yourself," I whispered.

Suddenly muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — someone was moving downstairs. Harry broke from my gaze.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione screamed suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!"

The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to me holding Harry's hand and still looking at him, back to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet.

"_Expelliarmus!" _Lupin shouted. Our wands flew right into his outstretched hand.

We all looked at each other, wondering what would happen.

"Where is he, Sirius?" Professor Lupin asked quietly.

I frowned. What did he mean?

Slowly, my uncle raised his hand and pointed at Ron. Utterlybewildered, Harry and Hermione put themselves besides Ron.

"But then…" Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "…why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless" — Lupin's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of us could see, "— unless he was the one…unless you switched…without telling me?"

Black nodded.

"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on —?"

Lupin lowered his wand. The Professor walked towards him, and seized Black with one hand and the two of them embraced as if they were friends of all life.

"No," I whispered.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

Lupin let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed. "You — you —"

"Hermione —"

"– you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down —"

"I didn't tell anyone! Neither Annie nor I did!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you -"

"Hermione, listen to me, please!" Lupin shouted. "I can explain -"

I could see Harry shaking, not with fear, but with a fresh wave of fury.

"I trusted you," he shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering out of control, "and all the time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now — Let me explain…"

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too –"

"Hermione, _enough_!" I said. I knew what she was going to say, but this didn't have anything to do with him betraying us.

She ignored me.

"— He's a werewolf!"

There was an eerie silence. We all looked at Professor Lupin. He was remarkably calm but looked more paler.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead." An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, "Get away from me, werewolf!"

Lupin stopped dead.

I smacked Ron's head.

"Blimey, Anne!" he yelled. "What was that for?"

"Don't be a dumbass, Ron. He doesn't have a disease for you to be rude. And the fact that Professor Lupin is a werewolf doesn't have a damn thing to do in this."

I saw Professor Lupin's eyes widen. The others looked at me. Black too. He looked, what – proud? Of me?

Lupin cleared his throat. "How long have you both known?"

"Ages," we both said.

"Since I did Professor Snape's essay…" Hermione trailed.

"After you returned," I said. Not to mention that Hermione confirmed it yelling at me.

"He'll be delighted," Lupin said coolly. "He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant...Did you both check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione said quietly.

Lupin forced a laugh.

"You're both the cleverest witches of your ages I've ever met, Hermione, Anya."

"I don't think so," I said for myself.

"We're not," Hermione agreed. "If we'd been a bit cleverer, we'd have told everyone what you are!"

I rolled my eyes.

"Hermione, the staff must already know about this. Dumbledore doesn't let anything go past him." I said.

Lupin nodded.

"Some of the staff thought that Dumbledore was mad," Lupin said wryly. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy—"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!"

He was pointing at Black, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. Crookshanks leapt up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring. Ron edged away from both of them, dragging his leg.

"I have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look —"

He tossed us our wands. I looked down at it confused.

"There. You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?" Lupin asked.

I nodded warily.

"If you haven't been helping him," Harry said, with a furious glance at Sirius, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," Lupin said. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it -"

"You know how to work it?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Of course I know how to work it," said Lupin, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony — that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

"You wrote —?"

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Anya, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?"

He had started to pace up and down, looking at us. Little patches of dust rose at his feet.

"You might have been wearing your father's old cloak, Harry—"

"How d'you know about the cloak?"

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it…" said Lupin, waving an impatient hand again. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"What?" said Harry. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," said Lupin, still pacing, and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Harry.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labeled Sirius Black…I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —"

"Two of us!" Ron said angrily.

I frowned. There was somebody else too. But, it couldn't be.

"No, Ron. Three of you," Lupin said.

He had stopped his pacing, his eyes moving over Ron.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"What?" Ron said. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?" at the sound of his name, Scabbers started moving furiously on my pocket.

"Everything," said Lupin. "Could I see him, please?"

Ron hesitated, but he eventually nodded at me. I slowly reached inside my robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately. I had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black's leg and made a soft hissing noise.

Lupin moved closer to me. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

"What?" Ron said again, as I held Scabbers, looking scared. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," croaked Sirius Black suddenly.

"What d'you mean — of course he's a rat —"

"No, he's not," Lupin said quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus, by the name of Peter Pettigrew."


	28. They were Animagus?

Wait – what?

"Rubbish!" I snapped.

"You're both mental," Ron agreed.

"Ridiculous!" Hermione said faintly.

"Peter Pettigrew's _dead_!_ He_ killed him twelve years ago!" Harry yelled, pointing at Black.

"I meant to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but little Peter got the better of me...not this time, though!"

And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers – right straight me.

"Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards.

In one swiftly movement, I pulled out my black wand and pointed it between his eyes. Black stopped dead, staring incredulously at it. He was sort of doing a funny face, but I let it go. We didn't have time for jokes.

"One move, Black," I growled. He raised his hands innocently.

"I just want the rat," he grunted.

"Sirius," Lupin called behind him. "They need to understand what happened. We've got to explain –"

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Black, shrugging rudely Lupin's hand and lunging again to me. Lupin quickly grabbed Black and tried to drag him backwards. One hand was still clawing the air as my uncle tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet. I was having problems trying to maintain a hold on him and still point my wand at the same time.

"They've — got — a — right — to — know — everything!" Lupin panted. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand! Anya needs to know what really happened with Ren – and Harry — you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers. By now, my hands were dripping little sweats of blood, as Scabbers had scratched me and bite them a lot.

"All right, then," Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…"

"You're nutters, both of you," Ron said shakily, looking round at us for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

He tried to heave himself up on his good leg and pulled up his hands to me. I was going to give him his pet, but Lupin pointed his wand again, darting it between us.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron," he said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter, Anya, while you four listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled. The rat screeched more loudly and suddenly made a big cut. I hissed. Ron tried to grab Scabbers again, but he swayed on his spot and Harry had to help him into bed.

Harry then turned to Lupin.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said. "A whole street full of them..."

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" Sirius said, still focusing on the rat.

"Then what happened?" I demanded loudly. Wow, I was really talking more today. More like snap or yell, but is a progress.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," Lupin said, nodding. "I believed it myself - until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's Map never lies... Peter's alive. Anya's holding him, Harry."

I saw Harry and Ron share a look. They must think both Professor Lupin and Sirius Black were crazy. I too, was thinking the same. But, the more I replayed their words, the more convincing it was starting to get…

"But Professor Lupin," Hermione said timidly. The attention was on her. "...Scabbers can't be Pettigrew...it just can't be true, you know it can't..."

"Why can't it be true?" Lupin asked.

"Because...because people would _know_ if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework—the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animals they become, and their markings and things...and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list-"

"Right again, Hermione!" he said. "But the Ministry never knew that there used to be four unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

My eyes widened. _No way. _I looked down at the rat, and suddenly I noticed something very disturbing.

Scabbers was missing one finger.

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," snarled Black, who was still watching Scabber's every desperate move. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right...but you'll need to help me, Sirius," Lupin said, "I only know how it began..."

Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All six of us stared at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there..."

"This place is haunted!" Ron said.

"It's not," Lupin said, still looking at the door in a puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shack was never haunted...The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me. That's where all of it starts—with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten...and if I hadn't been so foolhardy..."

Ron was going to say something but Hermione hissed "Shh!" at him.

"I as a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week, preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform…I'm able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again."

"The Wolsfbane potion," I said loudly. Everyone stared at me but I just watched Lupin intently.

He nodded. "Correct. Before it was discovered, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me.

"But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school…" Lupin sighed, and looked directly at Harry. "I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house" — Lupin looked miserably around the room, — "the tunnel that leads to it — they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

I could heard Scabbers frightened squeaks from my hands.

"My transformation in those days were - were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor...Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it...

"But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, four great friends, Sirius Black...Peter Pettigrew...and, of course, your parents, Harry, Anya - James Potter and Serena Black."

From here, I could see Black wince at the mention of my mother.

"Now, my four friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her...I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you girls, worked out the truth...

"And they didn't desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad too?" asked Harry astounded.

"Yes, indeed," Lupin nodded.

I raised my hand. "One question though. How did you manage to do it? The reason Wizards all go directly to the Ministry is because is difficult and risky to do the potion. If not, then we would have a round of animals here and there."

"You're right, Anya. Even still if my three friends were the cleverest wizards of the school, they needed all the help they could get." Lupin smiled. "And that's when one of the most intelligent boys appeared in our equation. Alec Barton."

I let sink the words he said. My father was one of the most intelligent boys in school.

"And boy, did they need his help," he chuckled. "Sirius, Serena and James were lucky to have him, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong - one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. They managed to do it more sooner than they planned beforehand, except Peter. With the help of all them, he managed to transform in our Fifth year. The same year they could each turn into a different animal at will without repercussions."

"But how did that help you?" Hermione asked, sounding puzzling.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed...Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influences, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus," Sirius snarled, still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there...well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius, James, and Ren transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students every found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did...And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs. And Serena was Blitz."

I blinked. Blitz? Why my mum named herself Blitz? Or why did they call her Ren, for that matter.

"What sort of animal-?" Harry started to say, but Hermione cut him off.

"That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd giving the others the slip, and bitten somebody?" she asked.

"A thought that still haunts me," Lupin said. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless—carried away with our own cleverness. I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course...he had admitted to me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventures. And I haven't changed...

"All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led other along with me...and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it...so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" Sirius said harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius," Lupin said. "He's teaching here as well." He looked at the four of us. "Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons...you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me-"

Black snorted and said, "It served him right. Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to...hoping he could get us expelled..."

That sounds quite rude.

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month," Lupin explained. "We were in the same year, you know, and we—er—didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent of the Quidditch field...anyway Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be—er—amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it—if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf—but your father and Ren, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to their lives...Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was..."

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you because he thought you were in on the joke?" Harry said slowly.

"That's right," a voice sneered.

The devil himself, Severus Snape, pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, and pointed his wand at Lupin.


	29. I finally understand

This reminded me a lot about a T.V. drama Mrs. Darcy used to watch. And she stopped watching it because the ending was not _favorable._

Hermione screamed. Black leapt to his feet. Harry looked like he felt a lightning struck his very core. Lupin looked slightly shocked but still maintained his calm, even if a wand was being pointed at him.

Ron and I? Well, we both just watched in the sidelines. I had the sudden urge to emit a dramatic sound.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," Snape said, tossing aside the cloak. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you..."

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did...lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus -" Lupin began, but Snape overrode him.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use those old place as your hideout -"

"Severus, you're making a mistake," Lupin said. "You haven't heard everything—I can explain—Sirius is not here to kill Harry-"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," Snape said, looking quite gleeful about the idea. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this...He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin...a _tame_ werewolf-"

"You fool," Lupin said. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

I gasped as there was a loud BANG from Snape's wand and thin, black cords burst out and wrapped themselves around Lupin's mouth and body. After a moment, he lost his balance and fell to the ground. With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Black stopped dead. It was impossible to say whose face showed much more hatred from the two.

I stood there not knowing what to do. And by the others faces, I guess they didn't too.

"Professor Snape—it—it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w—would it?" Hermione said in a quiet voice. It was rather bravely of her to talk with Snape, seeing as he has this maniac glint I only had seen on Oliver Wood's face.

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school," Snape spat out. "You, Potter, and the Weasleys are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, _hold your tongue_."

"But if — if there was a mistake —"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black's face.

I quickly went in front of our little group. Snape didn't seem his usual negative evil git person. He was…quite deranged.

"Vengeance is very sweet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you…"

Now, that is sad.

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled. "As long as Anya brings that rat up to the castle" - he jerked his head at me - "I'll come quietly..."

"Up to the castle?" said Snape silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black…pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay…I —"

What little color there was in Black's face left it.

"You — you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat — look at the rat —"

The mad glint show more. Snape was losing all reason.

"Come on, all of you," he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too -"

Harry crossed the room and stood in front of Snape.

"Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already," Snape said. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin-"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Harry said, interrupting Snape. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works," Snape hissed. "Get out of the way, Potter."

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN —"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape shrieked, looking madder than ever. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

I quickly raised my wand. Hermione and Ron did the same. Harry already was opening his mouth to say it.

"_Expelliarmus!_" we shouted.

There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He was knocked out, his wand laying a side with Crookshanks in the bed.

"You shouldn't have done that," Black croaked, just looking at Harry. "You should have left him to me..."

"We attacked a teacher...We attacked a teacher..." Hermione chanted.

"No surprise there," I said. "I reckon we were going to crack up one time with that greasy git." I shook my head sadly. "Not so sooner though."

Ron snorted. Hermione finally fell silent, but still mouthed her shock.

Sighing, I kneeled in front of Professor Lupin. Black bent down too and we both started to untie him.

Lupin straightened up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had cut into them.

I quickly walked next to Hermione.

"Thank you, Harry."

"I'm still not saying I believe you," Harry said.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof," Lupin said. "Anya, would you please hand me Peter? Now."

I looked sideways at Ron.

"Come off it," he said weakly. "Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on _Scabbers_? I mean... okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat - there are millions of rats - how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question," Lupin, turned to Black, frowning slightly. "How did you find out where he was?"

Black put one of his claw-like hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show everyone.

It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the _Daily Prophet_ the previous summer, and there, on Ron's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"How did you get this?" Lupin asked Sirius, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," Sirius said. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page...on this boy's shoulder...I knew him at once...how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts…to where Harry and Anya were…"

"My God," Lupin said softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. "His front paw..."

"What about it?" Ron asked defiantly.

"He's got a toe missing," Sirius said.

"Of course," Lupin breathed. "So simple...so _brilliant_...he cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," Sirius said. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lilly, James and Ren. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself - and sped down into the sewer with the other rats..."

"Didn't you hear, Ron? The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger," Lupin said.

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right-" Ron started to say.

"Twelve years, in fact," Lupin said. "Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?"

"We - we've been taking good care of him!" Ron said.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" Lupin said. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again..."

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" Ron said, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed.

I frowned. Before Hermione bought Crookshanks, Ron himself said that Scabbers was off in Egypt.

"That cat isn't mad," Black said. He stroked Crookshank's head, making the cat purr even louded. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me...Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me..."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't...so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me...As I understand it, he took them from a boy's bedside table..."

"From Neville's…" I trailed slowly. Everything was starting to get in place.

"But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it..." Black croaked. "This cat—Crookshanks, did you call him?-told me Peter had left blood on the sheets...I supposed he bit himself...Well, faking his own death had worked once..."

"Yes, and Hermione is the one who got off bad on this," I said bitterly. Ron and Harry winced.

"And why did he fake his death?" Harry asked angrily. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No, Harry-" Lupin said.

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," Black said, with an evil look at Scabbers.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry shouted.

"Harry," Lupin said hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents and Anya's mother, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don't you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father — _Sirius tracked Peter down_ —"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE! HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!" Harry shouted, pointing at Black.

"Harry…I as good as killed them," Black croaked. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me…I'm to blame, I know it…The night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. Then a message was sent to me via Patronus. Ren was frantic. She said that Peter had betrayed us. Said to me to hurry, that she already was on her way to James' place. I was scared, I didn't understand what she meant. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies, my sister's…I realized that I was too late… what Peter must've done…what I'd done…"

I sniffed quietly. My mum, she died to protect her friends. Black was so looking broken…lost.

_I'm sorry._ I remembered those eyes again. He was sorry and blamed himself for their deaths.

I came to a quick conclusion.

Peter Pettigrew was the bastard that made me lost my mother and Harry's parents. And I was holding him right in this moment.

"Enough of this," Lupin said coldly. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Anya, _please give me that rat_."

I was going to place on his hand, but Ron asked, "What are you going to do with him if Annie gives him to you?"

"Force him to show himself," Lupin said. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron hesitated, then nodded at me. With a nasty look at the animal, I held it out to Lupin.

Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head.

"Ready, Sirius?" Lupin said.

Black had already retrieved Snape's wand from the bed. He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.

"Together?" he said quietly.

"I think so", said Lupin, holding Scabbers tightly in one hand and his wand in the other. "On the count of three. One — two — THREE!"

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly — Ron yelled — the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then —

It was like watching a speeded-up Muggle film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up.

The man was short and fat (not so fat) with rat features on his face.

His eyes darted from us to the door.

"Well, hello, Peter," Lupin said pleasantly. "Long time, no see."


	30. Voldemort's servant returns

"S - Sirius...R - Remus..." his voice was annoyingly squeaky. Pettigrew seemed ready to run for it. "My friends…my old friends…"

Black raised his wand, but Professor Lupin seized his wrist with a warning look.

"We've been having a little chat, Peter," he started in a light and casual tone. I really admire Professor Lupin. He was giving a calming aura in this. How did he manage to not get mad and curse Peter's arse to hell? "About what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed —"

"Remus," Pettigrew gasped, he was sweating like a pig, "you don't believe him, do you…? He tried to kill me, Remus…"

"So we've heard," Lupin said coldly. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'll be so —"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" Peter squeaked suddenly, pointing his middle finger at Black. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me too…You've got to help me, Remus…"

Black's face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Pettigrew with his fathomless eyes.

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out." Lupin tried to sooth him.

"Sorted things out?" again, Pettigrew looked around all the room, trying to search some exit. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"

"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" asked Lupin in thought. "When nobody has ever done it before?"

"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted shrilly. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!"

Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.

"Voldemort, teach me tricks?" he said. Pettigrew flinched at the name, as did Ron and Hermione.

"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" I wanted to point out that half the room flinched at the name. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"

"Don't know what you mean, Sirius —"Pettigrew muttered breathing heavily.

"You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years," Black said oddly calm. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter…They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them…I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information…and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter —"

"Don't know…what you're talking about…" he still tried to feign innocence, but even Pettigrew knew he wasn't going to win. He looked at Lupin."You don't believe this — this madness, Remus —"

"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," Lupin said evenly.

"Innocent, but scared!" Pettigrew squealed. "If Voldemort's supports were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban - the Spy, Sirius Black!"

Black's face contorted.

"How dare you," he growled. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter - I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us...me and Remus...and James and Ren..."

Pettigrew was panting nervously, I could tell he was getting more scared at the sight of the two men glaring at him.

"Me, a spy…must be out of your mind…never…don't know how you can say such a —"

"Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Black hissed, so venomously that Pettigrew took a step backward. "I thought it was the perfect plan…a bluff…Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you…It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew was muttering words like "far-fetched" and "lunacy," an ashen color took his place on his face.

"Professor Lupin?" Hermione started timidly. "Can — can I say something?"

"Certainly, Hermione," said Lupin courteously.

"Well — Scabbers — I mean, this — this man — he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"

"There!" Pettigrew pointed at Ron with his maimed hand. "Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry's head! Why should I?"

"I'll tell you why," Black snapped. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all of his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him…"

Pettigrew opened and closed his mouth, finally lost his words.

"Er — Mr. Black — Sirius?"

Black jumped. He stared at Hermione, not believing she addressed him so politely.

"If you don't mind me asking, how - how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you!" Pettigrew gasped, nodding frantically at her. "Exactly! Precisely what I -"

I sent him a death glare that shut him up. Black was frowning, not looking annoyed, but actually thoughtful.

"I don't know how I did it," he finally said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me...but it kept me sane and knowing who I am...helped me keep my powers...so when it all became...too much...I could transform in my cell...became a dog. Dementors can't see, you know...They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions...They could tell that my feelings were less—less human, less complex when I was a dog...but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand...

"But then I saw Peter in that picture...I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry and Anya...perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again..."

Pettigrew was shaking his head, mouthing and staring in horror at Black.

"…ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies...and to deliver the last Potter to them. To kill one of Voldemort's enemy's daughter… If he gave them Harry or Anya, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He'd be welcomed back with honors...So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive..."

"It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head," Black said, "and the Dementors couldn't destroy it...It wasn't a happy feeling...it was an obsession...but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog...It's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused...I was thin, very thin...thin enough to slip through the bars...I swam as a dog back to the mainland...I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I've been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry..."

He was looking at Harry with pride.

"Believe me," Black croaked. "Believe me, Harry. I never betrayed Lilly and James," he looked at me, "Nor did I to Ren. They were my family. I would have died before I betrayed any of them."

I smiled sadly. "I know." I said. I really did. How could we have been so thick headed to not know nor notice the truth? Harry, looking like he was going to crack up, nodded.

"NO!" Pettigrew yelled as if Harry's nod was a death sentence.

He shuffled forward on his knees, groveling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

"Sirius — it's me…it's Peter…your friend…you wouldn't —"

Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them," Black said, passing a hand to his ripped sleeve as if he was cleaning out dust.

"Remus!" Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You don't believe this...wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?"

"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter," Lupin said. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" he said casually over Pettigrew's head.

"Forgive me, Remus," Black said.

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend," Lupin said, who was now rolling up his sleeves. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing _you_ were the spy?"

"Of course," Black said, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes, I think so," Lupin said grimly.

"You wouldn't...you won't...," Pettigrew gasped. And he scrambled around to Ron.

"Ron...haven't I been a good friend...a good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you...you're on my side, aren't you?"

But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.

"I let you sleep in my _bed_!" he said.

"Kind boy...kind master..." Pettigrew crawled toward Ron, "you won't let them do it...I was your rat...I was a good pet..."

"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter," Black said harshly. Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew's reach. Pettigrew turned on his knees, staggered forward, and seized the hem of Hermione's robes.

"Sweet girl…clever girl…you — you won't let them…Help me…"

Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew's clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified.

Pettigrew looking like he was out of ideas, looked around and his eyes fell on me.

"Wise girl… so kind to everyone…" he started to crawl towards me. He grabbed the hem of my robes, I didn't move at all. "You wouldn't let them hurt me…you're as beautiful as your mother, intelligent as Alec… he would have showed me mercy…forgiveness…"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Mercy, you say?" I said deadly softly. Those whom knew me very well must have known that I was on my 'doll mode'. "Forgiveness? Pettigrew," I gave a small laugh, "it's your fault that my friends were at each other's necks since the beginning of the year. It's your fault that Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban taking your place. It's your fault that Harry has to live a horrible life without his parents!" I exclaimed the last part. Everyone here was watching me apprehensively. Lupin, Hermione and Ron were watching me with sadness. I couldn't describe Black nor Harry's expressions. "It's your fault that I lost two very important people in my family. My mum, and," I looked directly at Black – err, Sirius, "my uncle."

Black surely looked shocked, as did Harry.

"So," I glared at Pettigrew, "if you want forgiveness, you're talking to the wrong person."

Pettigrew was whimpering from my death glare, but he still didn't give up. He turned his head to Harry.

"Harry...Harry...you look just like your father...just like him..."

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" roared my uncle. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

Heh, it seems the temper runs in the family.

"Harry," Pettigrew said, going closer to Harry. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed...James would have understood, Harry...he would have shown me mercy..."

Both Sirius and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew's shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

"You sold Lily and James to Voldemort," my uncle was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"

Pettigrew burst into tears. What a pity.

"Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord...you have no idea...he has weapons you can't imagine...I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen...He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me-"

"DON'T LIE," Black yelled. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY, JAMES AND REN DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He—he was taking over everything! Wh—what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?" Sirius asked. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand! He would have killed me, Sirius!" Pettigrew squeaked.

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Both Sirius and Lupin raised their wands at Pettigrew.

"You should have realized," Lupin said quietly, "if Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter."

Hermione clutched my arm and hid her face on my shoulder. I closed my eyes and tilted my head away.

"NO!" I looked up surprised to see Harry put himself right in front of Pettigrew.

"You can't kill him," he said breathlessly. "You can't."

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents," Sirius said. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I know," Harry said. Hermione had raised her head and we watched in clearly confusion. Didn't Harry wanted Pettigrew to pay what he did to his parents?

"We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the dementors...He can go to Azkaban...but don't kill him."

"Harry!" Pettigrew squeaked, flinging his arms around Harry's knees. "You—thank you—it's more than I deserve—thank you-"

"Get off me," Harry said, looking disgusted. He threw Pettigrew's hands off of him. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because—I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers—just for you."

I sighed softly. Harry was really a truly amazing person. Better than me.

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Sirius and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands.

"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry," Sirius said. "But think...think what he did..."

"He can go to Azkaban," Harry repeated, making himself clear. "If anyone deserves that place, he does..."

"Very well," Lupin said. "Stand aside, Harry."

Harry hesitated and Lupin had to clarify he was only going to tie him up.

"But if you transform, Peter, we _will_ kill you," Sirius growled at Pettigrew. "You agree, Harry?"

I watched as Harry looked down at Pettigrew and nodded.

"Right," Lupin said. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing."

He went over to my twin and muttered, "_Ferula,_" whilst tapping Ron's leg with his wand. Bandages wrapped around Ron's leg around a splint.

"That's better," he said. "Thanks."

"What about Professor Snape?" said Hermione in a small voice, looking down at Snape's prone figure.

"Eh, we can leave him," I said with a dismissing hand.

My uncle raised his hand happily, "I second that."

Lupin gave us both stern looks and we pouted at the same time.

Wicked, huh?

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," Lupin said, bending over Snape and checking his pulse. "You were just a little - overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er - perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safely back in the castle. We can take him like this..."

He muttered _"Mobilicorpus."_ As though invisible strings were tied to Snape's wrists, neck, and knees, he was pulled into a standing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet. He hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling.

Lupin picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely into his pocket.

"And two of us should be chained to this," said Black, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."

"I'll do it," said Lupin.

"And me," said Ron savagely, limping forward. He seemed to take Scabbers identity as an insult to him.

Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.


	31. Full Moon

We certainly were an odd group. With Crookshanks in the lead, Lupin with Ron, both dragging Pettigrew with them, it seemed as if they were on a six-legged race. Next came Snape, who floated creepily in front of us, hitting the ceiling once or twice. Yes, Sirius was the one who was moving him. Hermione and Harry were closely behind him, and I brought up the rear.

Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron had to turn sideways to manage it; Lupin still had Pettigrew covered with his wand. They tried to edge awkwardly in one single file.

Hermione decided to walk besides me as Harry quickly went after Sirius.

"You know what this means?" Black said suddenly, bumping Snape's head once again. "Turning Pettigrew in?"

"You're free."

"Yes…" said Black. "But I'm also — I don't know if anyone ever told you — I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that." I rolled my eyes. Men.

"Well…your parents appointed me your guardian," Black said stiffly. "If anything happened to them…"

My eyes widened. He couldn't be suggesting what I thought, could he?

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," Sirius trailed awkwardly. "But…well…think about it. Once my name's cleared…if you wanted a…a different home…"

"What — live with you?" Harry exclaimed, cracking his head on a bit of rock protruding from the ceiling. "Leave the Dursleys?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," Sirius said quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd —"

"Are you insane? Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?" Harry said happily.

Hermione and I exchanged happy smiles about our friend. Sirius's gaunt face broke into the first true smile that made him seem so much younger than I had seen before. The resemblance between him and me became very clear.

"Anya," I heard my name. Sirius was looking back at me a little expectantly.

Hermione shoved me a little. I glared at her.

"Call me Annie," he raised his eyebrows. "Only old people calls me Anya." Sirius chuckled and Harry looked a little amused.

"Don't let Remus hear you," he whispered nodding at Professor Lupin. He cleared his throat. "Well – I was wondering, if you want to – you know," he sighed. "You already heard what I said to Harry."

My face fell. How was I supposed to tell him that I already had a guardian? A lady I have known all my life.

"I'm sorry Sirius," I said awkwardly. "But – I already am going to live with someone –"

"Does this someone has the name of Natasha Rosenberg?" he said casually.

I stopped dead in my tracks and so did Harry and Hermione. How did he knew her name?

Not feeling us, Sirius looked back. He had this mischievous glint on his eye.

"How do you know Nat?"

Sirius shrugged like if it didn't matter. "We already have met before. In fact, I believe Harry and I would be probably be next street from your place."

My brain was working mile per hour. Sirius knew Nat. Says he's going to be our neighbor. And Sirius was looking really excited mentioning her…

_No bloody way._

"It's you!" I exclaimed, making Hermione jump. "The man she has been visiting! The one she had a crush on!"

If I thought it was impossible, my uncle's face brightened more than I could have seen before.

"So," he said slowly with a smirk. "She has a crush on me, you say? I knew she couldn't resist the Black's charm." He shook his head. "I never going to let her out of my sight again," he whispered. But it seemed I was the only one who hard it.

We did not speak again until we had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Lupin, Pettigrew, and Ron clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches.

Sirius saw Snape up through the hole, then stood back for Harry, Hermione, and I to pass. At last, all of us were out.

The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, we set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering.

"One wrong move, Peter," Lupin said threateningly ahead. His wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew's chest.

Silently we tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of Sirius, his chin bumping on his chest. And then -

A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Our party was bathed in moonlight.

"Sirius!" I gasped pointing at the sky. Sirius saw it too, halting out his arm to stop Harry and Hermione. Snape hit Lupin's back. But he didn't seem to feel it, as he had gone rigid.

"Oh, my -" Hermione gasped. "He didn't take his potion tonight! He's not safe!"

"Run," Sirius whispered. "Run. Now."

Harry leapt forward but Sirius caught him around the chest and threw him back. Hermione grabbed his arm to steady him.

There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks's hair was on end again; he was backing away -

As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from Harry's side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it, the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other -

Harry and I stood, transfixed by the sight, too intent upon the battle to notice anything else. It was Hermione's scream that alerted us -

Pettigrew had dived for Lupin's dropped wand.

"No!" I dived forward and pushed him hard. Pettigrew once on his back, grabbed my ankle and tugged hard, making me fall too. He crawled over Lupin's wand, but I punched him in his face. What I didn't expect was him punching me on my stomach. I gave a small squeak of pain.

But Ron appeared and he grabbed Pettigrew around. The rat was struggling in the locked arms around him, but he suddenly brightened and brought up his foot –

"AARGH!" Ron fell onto the grass and braced his leg panting heavily. Pettigrew had stepped on Ron's injured leg.

Finally recovering, I knelt slightly. Pettigrew had Professor Lupin's wand on his hand.

There was a bang, a burst of light - and Ron lay motionless on the ground. Another bang - Crookshanks flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap.

"Bastard," I gasped. With the energy left on me, I bounced on his back and started scratching his face with my finger. He hollered in pain and throw me backwards.

I quickly scrambled to my feet.

BANG!

The last thing I saw was a white spell flying right to my face.


	32. The Year ends

My head was trobbing badly.

Everything was blurry. I could feel pain on my left arm. I tried to frown but it hurt.

I heard voices. Rushed voices. And running, but it didn't last.

And then, I heard yelling. It was kind of drawing nearer. Each step the yelling voice did, I could feel how the bed trembled. It ony made my body hurt more.

The yelling voice was already inside, as I could feel how the door trembled when he thundered inside. He was yelling again. If I could move, I would have screamed at that person to shut up.

I tried to move my hand, but it felt cold. I couldnt exactly move it without pain. I decided to do the more simple thing. Open my eyes.

Instead of that, I finally could distinguish that there was more people in here that the yelling voice. What were they saying?

"...trol yourself!" Wasn't that Madam Pomfrey? What I was doing in the Hospital Wing...?

"See here, Snape, be reasonable," that was the voice of the Ministry "This door's been locked, we just saw —"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" the yelling voice... it was Snape. I opened my eyes, and found myself staring at the withe ceiling of the magical infirmary.

What hapenned again?

"Calm down, man!" Fudge yelled. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER! HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT —"

Oh, yeah. We found out my murderous uncle is in fact innocent. We were going out of the tunnel, Professor Luin started to transfom, Pettigrew grabbing Lupin's wand...

That bastard! Where is he?

"That will do, Severus," Mr. Dumbledore cut in. His voice was soft but at the same time reprimanding. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" Madam Pomfrey said offended. "I would have heard them!"

"Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further." What did he mean with two places?

There was a silence, then hurred steps sounded loudly. Why couldn't Snape be quiet?

"Fellow seems quite unbalanced," Fudge said. I wanted to nod in agreement. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore."

"Oh, he's not unbalanced. He's just suffered a severe disappointment," Mr. Dumbledore said. I breathed deeply. Yeah, he was right.

"He's not the only one," Fudge said. "The _Daily Prophet's_ going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again! All it needs now is for the story of that hippogriff's escape to get out, and I'll be a laughingstock! Well...I'd better go and notify the Ministry..."

He - he was free? But what does it mean he escaped? Didn't they interrogated Pettigrew?

"And the dementors?" Dumbledore asked. "They'll be removed from the school, I trust?"

"Oh yes, they'll have to go," Fudge said. "Never dreamed they'd attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent boy...Completely out of control...no, I'll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight...Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance..."

"Hagrid would like that..."

Silence again. I tried to move my head a little, but the pain made me moan. There was another one besides my bed.

"Annie! Ron!"

I finally managed to get myself into a sitting position.

"What—what happened?" Ron asked. "Harry? Why are we in the here? Where's Sirius? Where's Lupin? What's going on?"

"I could ask the same..." I mumbled.

Hermione and Harry looked at each other.

"You explain," Harry said and started nibbling a piece of chocolate. How ramdom...

Hermione explained to us that Pettigrew did a spell that knocked us out. Then Lupin was going to attack them but he ran away. Then Dementors appeared and nearly sucked out the life of them, but a strong Patronus saved them. Snape brought us here. My uncle was going to be kissed -

"Wait - WHAT?!"

And Harry explained that in all that conmotion, Pettigrew escaped.

Ron and I shared a sad glance. It was our fault we left him escape.

"No, don't look like that," Hermione scolded us. "You both were hurt and Pettigrew took advantage of it. And besides, " she smiled, "You both gave him some nasty new scars that there aren't going to dissapear."

That cheered us a little but the guilt was still there.

She continued explaining what Mr. Dumbledore asked them to do.

"You have a time-turner?" I exclaimed. "Hey, why didn't you tell me?"

"You mean tell us!" intervened Ron.

"Yeah, yeah," I waved a hand at him. "But I was with her all this year." I looked at Hermione. "Do you know how dizzy you left me and Neville with your dissapearing acts?"

Then Harry said they went to save Buckbeak first. Two innocent lives and blah, blah...

And they had to wait to everything to happen again. Found Lupin on the woods, hiding in Hagrid's hut.

Harry ended with an amazing anecdote. He was the one who saved them conjuring the Patronus. Said he assumed it was his dad, because it's a stag.

They flew to Professor Flitwick's office and set Sirius free.

the only bad thing as that he was still judged as guilty.

Life really sucks.

* * *

The four of us left the Hospital Wing next morning. Ron with a leg cast and my arm heavily bandaged. The school was deserted as the last Hogsmeade visit came. Neville's punishment had been lifted and I promptly suggested him to go. He seemed a little reluctanto to do so, but his actitude changed when he saw Harry, Hermione and Ron smiling in a corner.

"They are like a Golden Trio," he said absently, his eyes widening when he noticed he said _three_ not _four_. "I'm sorry Annie - I -"

"Dont worry Neville," I smiled at him. "I know I am just a tag-along."

My heart really trobbed hard against my ribs when I noticed how true it was.

I am just a tag along.

* * *

Hagrid was in great humor this last day. Buckbeak had been set free by himself, he said. I just chuckled.

What it did surprise me was the wildly stories they were making up on how uncle Sirius had escaed the Ministry once again.

Then I heard about Lupin's departure.

The slimy Potions git had told all the Slytherins about his condition and now Hogwartd was receiving Howlers and rude letters about this.

But of course, Lupin already had left.

"There probably goes the best teacher Hogwarts had seen," I said to Hermione saddly.

Seamus Finnigan heard what I said and gloomy said out loud, "Wonder what they'll give us next year?"

"Maybe a vampire," Dean Thomas suggested hopefully.

"Eh, I bet for an Auror." I said.

They both looked at each other and then at me.

"You're on."

* * *

THe exams results came. I passed every subject, and amazingly got an Acceptable on Herbology.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I chanted while I hugged a frozen stiff Neville.

It was a miracle Harry passed Potions, as Snape behaviour towards him had been worse. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Snape's thin mouth every time he looked at Harry, and he was constantly flexing his fingers, as though itching to place them around Harry's throat.

Meanwhile, thanks to the spectacular performance in the Quidditch Cup, Gryffindor had won the House championship for the third year running. This meant that the end of term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold, and that the Gryffindor table was the noisiest of the lot, as everybody celebrated.

As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next morning, Hermione gave Harry, Ron, and I some surprising news.

"I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" Ron said.

"I know," Hermione sighed, "but I can't stand another year like this one. That Time- Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again."

"I still can't _believe_ you didn't tell us about it," Ron said grumpily for the tenth time this week. "We're supposed to be your _friends_."

"I promised I wouldn't tell _anyone_," Hermione said.

"You know," I grinned, "one of these days, you two are going to end up killing each other or getting married. What will happen first?"

Hermione and Ron spluttered in shock and annoyance. What it was interesting to watch was how red the both of them went. I laughed. It's so easy to get a rise of them.

"Oh, cheer up, Harry!"

I looked over at Harry to see him looking out the window at Hogwarts disappearing.

"I'm okay," Harry said. "Just thinking about the holidays."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too," Ron said. "Harry you've got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now-"

"Telephone," Hermione and I said.

"Honesty, _you_ should take Muggles Studies next year..."

Ron ignored her. "It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

"Yeah...I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come...especially after what I did to Aunt Marge..." Harry said.

We played several games of Exploding Snap until the witch brought the cart of sweets.

But it was late in the afternoon when something new hapenned.

"Harry, what's that thing outside your window?" Hermione asked.

I turned to look outside. Something very small and gray was bobbing in and out of sight beyond the glass. Harry stood up for a better look and told us that it was a tiny owl, carrying a letter that was much too big for it. I frowned at him. The owl looked so much like mine. In fact, they could be twins!Harry opened the window and the little fluff ball zoomed inside. It buzzed around my head like a fly and dropped the letter into Harry's lap.

The funny thing was, it didn't leave. It buzzed around Ron's head now. Hedwig clicked her beak with a sort of dignified disapproval and Cal was doing some kind of happy dance while he ruffled his feathers in laughter.

Yes, these owls were brothers.

"It's from Sirius!" Harry said, opening the letter.

"What?" Ron said. "Read it aloud!"

_Dear Harry and Anne,_

_I hope this finds you both before Harry reachs his aunt and uncle. I don't know whether they're used to owl post._

_Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell either of you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job._

_I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted._

_There is something I never got around to telling either of you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you both the Firebolt to Harry and the locket to Anne -_

"Ha!" Hermione said triumphantly. "See! I _told_ you the presents were from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn't kinxed them, had he?" Ron said. "Ouch!" The tiny owl, now hooting happily in his hand, had nibbled one of his fingers in what it seemed to think was an affectionate way.

_Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as fourteen birthdays' worth of present from your godfather._

_The locket on the other hand, was from my sister, Ren. She herself made it. I suppose she would want you to have it, Anne_

_I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you that night last year when you left your uncle's house, Harry. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you._

_I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable._

_If ever you need me, send word. Your owls will find me._

_I'll write again soon._

_Sirius._

Harry looked eagerly inside the envelope. There were two more pieces of parchment in there. Smiling, he read:

_I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade on weekends._

Harry gave me the other parchment and I read:

_I, Sirius Black, uncle to Anya Barton, hereby gave her permission to visit __Hogsmeade on weekends, as her inmediate family._

"These'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" Harry said happily. I looked back at Sirius's letter.

"Hang on, there's a P.S..."

_I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat._

Ron's eyes widened. The minute owl was still hooting excitedly.

"Keep him?" he said uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl for a moment; then, to my, Harry's, and Hermione's great surprise, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff.

"What do'you reckon?" Ron asked the cat. "Definitely an owl?"

Crookshanks purred.

"That's good enough for me," Ron said happily. "He's mine."

I laughed.

THe rest of the trip we talked aput what we were going to do over the summer. I told them to visit me to Nat's house.

When we got to the barrier, I first spotted Harry's uncle standing a good distance from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, eyeing them suspiciously, and when Mrs. Weasley hugged the two of us in greeting, he made a sort of funny face.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Ron yelled after us as Harry and I bid him and Hermione good-bye.

Once we were alone, we turned to each other.

"So, this is it, then?" I said awkwardly.

"Yeah," he shrugged.

"Don't worry," I said to Harry. " I have the feeling we're going to see Sirius more sooner than I thought."

"Why is that?"

"Because he's behind certain redhead," I smirked, seeing Natasha waiting two benches away.

"I don't understan," Harry frowned. His uncle calld him rudely and with a last wave, I was alone again.

I aproached Natasha uncertainly. She looked up and smiled at me.

"Ready to go home?"


End file.
